


Harry Potter and the Year of Too Many People

by DeathAroundtheBend



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, Bisexual Draco Malfoy, Bisexual Ron Weasley, Black Hermione Granger, Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, But again they're children, But no romance in this book, Demisexual Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy is a Little Shit, F/F, F/M, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Indian Harry Potter, Indian Potter Family (Harry Potter), M/M, Maybe crushes but that's it, Morally Grey Harry Potter, My First Fanfic, My First Work in This Fandom, Neville Longbottom is a Good Friend, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pansexual Neville Longbottom, Queen (Band) References, Ron Weasley is a Good Friend, Slytherin Harry Potter, So no romance till 4/5 year, Straight Hermione Granger, don't copy without permission, they're all children
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:33:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 30,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23909272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathAroundtheBend/pseuds/DeathAroundtheBend
Summary: My take on Harry's first year.Instead of being taken to the zoo that day Mrs. Figg broke her leg the Dursleys leave Harry outside instead, what follow Harry's little outing is theft, murder, panic and a Mars Bar. However not in that particular order.No relationships as they are all children.
Relationships: Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Harry Potter/Neville Longbottom, Neville Longbottom & Harry Potter, TBD - Relationship
Comments: 33
Kudos: 163





	1. An Eventful Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not Jk Rowling. I do not own Harry Potter in any way. Anything you recognize is most probably hers or someone else's. Plot is mine however. Also I have terrible English.

The Dursleys had left Harry. Not forever, only for the day, as they had gone to the zoo to celebrate their precious Dudley's birthday. They had wanted Harry to stay with their neighbor Mrs. Figg, but the poor old lady had broken her leg. So they had kicked him out not wanting to take him and not wanting to leave him alone in their perfectly normal house with his freakiness.

That's how little Harry came to be sitting on a swing in the little park not far from his residence, and judging by the placement of the sun, he had been there for about 15 minutes. Little Harry soon grew tired of swinging. He enjoyed it, yes and it made him feel free, but not in the way he wanted. Swinging made him feel free as a bird soaring over an endless ocean of clouds or like he could rule the world and no one, not even Dudley, could stop him. Harry yearned to be free to be loved and cared for, to be free to have friends and get good grades and not get punished for it. He wanted so many things that a simple swing could not give him and so he left.

The boy, too small for his age, started to walk towards the Dursleys' house, only to stop at the corner of the little park. He couldn't go back, not with the neighbors to question his actions, and so little Harry turned and walked the opposite direction.

He walked and walked until he came upon a grand building that reminded him of what an ancient Roman temple should look like. Harry squinted at words engraved above the door trying to read them however his eyesight and his glasses only made things worse, leading him to read lionberry and not library.

Harry stumbled backward, he had never heard of a lionberry, but he figured that with 'lion' in the name it must be the zoo. Frantically little Harry looked around for a blob in the color and shape of the Dursleys' car, before rushing down the stairs to flee only to be grabbed by a large hand.

"What's wrong little boy? Are you lost?" The owner of the hand asked.

Little Harry stared wide-eyed at the man grabbing him. The tall, lean man reeked of smoke and bitterness, had matted hair splattered with grey and he seemed to only have shaved half his face leaving nasty stubble.

"You _are_ lost aren't you? Don't worry I'll help," the bitter smelling man said, dragging Harry off towards an alley, stumbling when the man yanked on his arm harshly. Harry struggled, trying to get out of the man's grip, but to no avail. "Stop moving little one," the smoke smelling man said, licking his cracked lips. "Once I'm done with you I'll take you to your family, I promise it'll only hurt for a little while. Now stop moving!" 

Harry had started struggling more not wanting help, or whatever the man said would hurt. The two males struggled for a while and Harry started getting more and more scared, feeling as if his arm would be torn off until a deafening crack sounded and the hand on Harry's little arm went limp. 

Harry opened his eyes when he heard something fall and peeked at the ground. There right in front of him laid the man's hand in a small puddle of blood. Harry stared at it horrified while the man seemed to realise what had happened.

"My hand! My hand!" The now one-handed man screeched, "What the hell did you go to my hand? You chopped it off! You- you devil! _Freak_!"

Harry ran, the man hot on his trail, and raced into the lionberry. Harry knew that bad people couldn't hurt him in public; it's why Uncle Vernon never hurt him where others could see. His eyes widened at the thought of Uncle Vernon, if his uncle saw him in the zoo then he would surely be punished. He looked around, eyes wide, but instead of seeing animals in cages surrounded by large crowds, he saw shelves upon shelves filled to the brim with books.

Only one place had so many books; a library.

Little Harry breathed a sigh of relief before realizing that he couldn't be in the library alone because the librarian at school knew his Aunt Petunia. If that librarian found Harry here then she would tell his aunt and he would be in trouble. At school whenever he went into the library the mean old librarian would look over him, waiting to call him out for doing something wrong and kick him out. That's why he never went to the library unless necessary, and that only happened when Dudley and his gang chased Harry through the school which didn't happen often as they preferred Harry Hunting in places where Harry couldn't hide.

He looked outside searching for the bitter smelling man, but couldn't find him, out of the corner of his eye he saw something shine, a puddle of red shimmering near a bush. Harry bit his lip, casting a longing look back at all the books, before walking outside towards the bush and the puddle. He saw the man's handless arm poking out of the bush, slowly leaking blood. Harry did want to touch the man for fear that he might wake up and grab him as he had seen happen once in a movie Dudley had left playing on the telly. With that in mind he grabbed a nearby stick and poked the man. The man didn't react and Harry, looking at his chest, noticed that it hadn't risen in a while. Panicking he dropped the stick, as if he had been burned, and accidentally stabbed the bitter smelling man in the eye.

Surely the man had left the Land of the Living. Harry had been poked in the eyes many times, so he knew it hurt like hell. No way could the man be faking his demise.

Harry bit his lip again, quickly looked around before ducking into the bush, and on a whim started to pat the man down. He fished out the man's sunglasses and wallet which contained about twenty pounds and the man's ID, John Darkwood, of age 22, if the card was to be believed, out of one pocket.

He leaned over the man and searched his other pocket taking out a lighter, a Mars bar, and a pack of cigarettes. Harry didn't know why people smoked, it was gross. Lastly he took the man's watch from the arm that still had a hand attached to it.

Little Harry stuffed the Mars bar into his mouth, threw down the rapper, collected everything except the cigarettes, and walked away as if nothing had happened. When he was far enough from the man and the library he ran. He ran all the way to the park, feet pounding on the pavement as he fled, before hiding under the old metallic slide off to the side.

He had just stolen from someone not just that he had also used his freakiness, the Dursleys didn't allow him to do either. The Dursleys hated it when he used his freakiness, and if they found out then he would be punished. 

You see the Dursleys had rules: don't steal, don't be ungrateful, freaks like you shouldn't be seen or heard, and so on, but the most important: never _ever_ use his freakiness. However nowhere on this extensive list was that he could not kill, and so Harry didn't worry about the dead man he had left in the bush he worried about his newly acquired items in his pocket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't decided on pairings it will either be Ron/Harry or Neville/Harry for the main pairing though I am open to suggestions.


	2. The Letters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> italicized sentences are thoughts, italicized word(s) in regular sentences are used for emphasis

Little Harry's emotions were all over the place as he approached 4 Privet Drive. 

_"Dead men don't bite,"_ he reminded himself, _"dead men don't bite."_

He walked up to the front door passing the car parked in the driveway and knocked on the door.

"There you are!" His Aunt Petunia screeched after opening the door, "Vernon dear," she called, "I found him."

The man in question came storming down the hall, yanked the too-small boy inside, and slammed the door behind him. " I was wondering where you'd gone off to boy. Thought you ran away, but you wouldn't do that now would you?" The whale of a man asked.

"No Uncle Vernon," came the whispered reply.

"And why wouldn't you run away boy?"

"Because it would be ungrateful sir." 

The man made a satisfied sound, happy with the reply, before throwing his nephew into his cupboard. "And don't you forget it boy," his uncle said, locking the door.

The following days were so normal that it pushed all thoughts of theft and murder out of little Harry's mind.

A couple weeks later the, still too small for his age, boy served breakfast while his, still too large for his age, cousin tried to trip him with his new smelting stick.

"Go get the mail Dudley," Petunia called from the kitchen.

"Make Harry get it," came the reply.

Vernon looked up from his newspaper to tell Harry to get the mail but found the boy already gone. 

Meanwhile out in the hall, Harry picked up the mail and, even though he wanted to, didn't go through the mail. Last time he did his Aunt Petunia had pinched his arms so hard and so many times that he had to wear long sleeves for a week. Harry handed the stack of letters to his uncle wordlessly and sat down to eat his meager little breakfast.

Lost in his head little Harry didn't notice his uncle's expression go from slightly annoyed at bills to sheet white with fury and fear at a certain letter addressed to a certain boy.

"Pet," he called, "it's here that- that blasted letter is here!" A plate fell to the floor in the kitchen shattering.

"No," the horse-faced lady whispered, "no, it can't be. I thought we stomped that- that _freakiness_ out of him."

The two adults whispered frantically in the kitchen while the two children sat at the table, the loved one poking the other with his stick. "Boy," Petunia called from the kitchen, "did you look through the mail? Well did you?"

"No, Aunt Petunia."

"And you aren't lying are you?"

"No, Aunt Petunia."

His aunt stared at him for a while before turning back to her whale of a husband and telling him to burn the letter. "That way he won't be able to read it even if he tried," she reasoned.

Letters kept on coming, no matter what the adults of the house did. Vernon had blocked at possible points of entry with wood and nails. Sunday morning came and put Vernon in quite happy; too bad that it wouldn't last long.

"Do you hear that son," he asked, pausing, "that's right," he said, not waiting for a reply, "Silence. Beautiful peaceful silence." He turned to face his son head-on, "do you know what day it is, son?"

"Umm...yeah it's today," came Dudley's stupid reply.

His father chucked, "Right you are son, but it's also Sunday. Do you know what comes on Sundays, Dudley?"

"What?"

"Nothing! Absolutely nothing comes. No mail and no blasted birds to ruin the day," and perhaps nothing would have happened if that man had kept his mouth shut. "Now why don't we go out-" Vernon didn't get to finish whatever he wanted to say because the house started to shake.

Letters started flooding the house. They came from everywhere and nowhere, falling left and right and causing the perfectly normal family to scream in horror at the utterly abnormal event.

Before little Harry could even comprehend what was happening he found himself shoved out the front door and into the car. Starting up the car, ignoring the protest from his wife and son, Vernon began to drive and drive and drive till the sun disappeared and the moon revealed itself. They only stopped once for gas, a bathroom break, and snacks. The man kept on driving and driving, muttering to himself. He ignored his son's plea for food and for rest, ignored his wife's exclamations of indignation and kept on driving. 

The only one not protesting was Harry, but that didn't mean he wasn't confused or scared. The small boy tried to reassure himself that these letters had nothing to do with the man he had killed last month, even if that seemed like the only responsable explanation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit short, apologies. As of now I have no update schedule but we will see how the future goes. Feel free to comment, ask questions or whatever. And I hope you stick around for awhile.


	3. The Giant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed a few things in the last two chapters, just minor details not much. Also I think I've decided on the main pairing being Harry/Neville. That's all.
> 
> italicized sentences are thoughts, italicized word(s) in regular sentences are used for emphasis

_BOOM!_

Little Harry woke to a deafening sound, the noise, he figured, probably came from the thunderstorm outside.

_BAM!_

His head swiveled towards the door of the old shack. _"That's not the storm,"_ little Harry thought. Someone had decided to come to their small island and bang on the door.

Harry scurried out from under the old musky blanket the Dursleys had found and got up from the floor, muscles tense and ready to flee at a moment's notice.

The banging on the door continued so vehemently that Harry feared the ruckus could be heard all the way on the shore.

_BANG!_

The door fell to the floor with a thud.

Harry fled and hid in a secluded corner of the old shack. Peeping from his hiding place he saw a bear- no- a man- a very large man walk into the old building, his head grazing the ceiling.

The Dursleys had all awoken at some point during the noise and were cowering by the stairs, Vernon in front pointing a 12 Gauge Double Barreled Shotgun at the large intruder.

"Hullo, sorry 'bout yer door there," the great man said, lifting up the door and putting it back in it's place. "I knocked, but I guess yeh didn' hear me, anyway yeh've not made it easy for us, that's for sure." The stranger said walking over to the couch, which had been previously occupied by Dudley, and sat down causing the old thing to almost sink into the floor because of the sudden weight.

"How- how dare you come into my house!" Vernon cried, face redder than a tomato, I'll- I'll have you know-"

"Shut it Dursley, yeh old prune, now then, where's the birthday boy?" asked the man scanning the room for the boy in question.

" _Birthday? No one has a birth- oh its my birthday,"_ Harry realized _"but who's he? I've never seen him before."_

While Harry pondered this, the man, who had yet to introduce himself, got up and stocked over to the Dursleys.

"Stay- stay back! I warn you I'll- I'll shoot!" Vernon tried to intimidate the man, but to no avail as the man only grabbed the gun out of his hands and twisted it into a knot as if it were mere sting and not metal.

"What did yeh do ter the boy? Eh? Where is he!"

The boy in question weighed his options: either he could come out of his hiding place and face the large man, or stay hidden and wait to see if he'll kill the Dursleys. He decided on the former not because he wanted to be brave or self-sacrificing. No, he decided to come out of his hiding place to prevent himself from going homeless in the event that the man decided to kill the Dursleys.

"Here," Harry called, proud of himself for not stuttering, "I'm here."

The man swiveled around, eyes filled with burning anger, causing Harry to flinch and curl into himself, before smiling happily, anger leaving his blurry features. The man had looked too much like his Uncle Vernon when angry for his liking.

"Ah Harry there yeh are. I haven't seen yeh since you was a wee babe, come here let me get a good look at yeh. Yes, yeh certainly look a lot more like yer dad than the last time I saw yeh, but of course yeh've still have yer mother's eyes."

Harry heard Aunt Petunia gasp in the background and Uncle Vernon make a noise as if he had been strangled, Harry should know, he'd been strangled before. Pushing the thought from his mind, Harry addressed the giant man, "Who are you, and- how do you know my name?"

Usually the Dursleys didn't allow him to ask questions, but he thought it would be okay. This man could be a serial killer for all they knew. Harry's stomach filled with dread, had this man come to take him away for killing John Darkwood, had they known each other, had this man come for revenge? Harry opened his mouth ready to spew out a stream of apologies only to be cut if by the inhumanly tall man.

"Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds of Hogwarts, at yer service," the man- Hagrid let out a hearty chuckle, "as fer knowing yer name, I was good friends with yer parents."

 _"Parents? This man knew my parents? What's Hogwarts and why is he here? Why now?"_ These thoughts and others swarmed young Harry's brain, but he focused one one, "why are you here Mr. Hagrid?" Little Harry asked.

"Just Hagrid s'fine lad. Now, I've come ter deliver summat ter yeh and what better day than yer birthday! Which reminds me I've got summat else fer yeh- here yeh go," he said pulling out a semi squashed box from one of his many coat pockets, "Think I sat on it at some point along the way, but it should taste a'ight." 

Harry took the box trying his best to keep his hands from trembling and opened it. A cake. A very big, very chocolatey, birthday cake with writing on it in messy green icing that read _Happy Birthday Harry_.

Harry wanted to thank the man, he really did. The man had given him a cake, bigger than even the ones Dudley had ever gotten, and the first cake he had ever gotten, but instead of thanking the man little Harry asked in a small broken voice, "Why me?"

"Pardon?"

"Th- thank you sir," Harry corrected quickly, relieved that the man hadn't heard his previous question.

"No problem Harry, now yeh'll want some tea ter wash that down with, but first-'' he paused leaning over to the unlit fireplace, as if to examine it, and after he pulled back to sit correctly, Harry saw a fire dancing away merrily. 

Harry relished in the sudden warmth and light, it felt delightful, and now that he could see properly (as properly as he could with his awful glasses) he took in his companion's appearance. The man's eyes seem to be pure black barely visible under his wild and messy beard that seemed more like a mane to Harry than anything else.

"That's better init? Now then, hold this-" he handed Harry a teapot, before pulling other things from his pockets one of which was a package of sausages, "-thank you Harry," he said, taking the teapot back from the small boy once he was done.

"Now then I'm sure you know why I'm here, don't yeh Harry?" Said Hagrid after they had both finished their sausages.

Little Harry shook his head, "No sir."

"Well to deliver yer Hogwarts letter of course!"

"Hogwarts, sir?"

"Great school, Hogwarts, feels like only yesterday yer parents were little first years, yer mum was so excited to learn magic as I'm sure you are."

 _"Magic?"_ Little Harry felt lost, magic didn't exist, why would there be a school for something that didn't exist?

"He won't be going," came his Aunt Petunia's shrill voice. 

_"Going? Going where? Magic didn't exist, Aunt Petunia said so. Why would I go to a school that didn't exist?"_

"Of course he will, all respectable folk go to Hogwarts." 

Petunia opened her mouth to comment but Harry beat her to it, "But magic doesn't exist, sir."

Hagrid turned to him spluttering, "Of- of course magic exists Harry. Where do yeh think yer parents learned it all?"

Harry stared at the man, "Yeh know all about Hogwarts, right Harry?" The man asked. Harry shook his head. "You don't know anything? Nothing?" Again Harry shook his head.

"Stop!" Vernon cried suddenly, "Stop this nonsense at once! We swore when we took him in we'd stop this- this rubbish, that we'd stomp it out of him."

"It's true then," Harry said in a hushed voice, "what he's saying is true, magic is real."

"Real," Petunia spat, "it's nothing but trouble that's what it is. Lily's letter came just like yours and she went off to that school of- of _freaks_ where she met that Potter boy and decided to go off and marry him, leaving us normal people behind as if we were nothing. What good that did her, seeing as she got herself blown up, leaving us with you!"

"Blown up? You said they died in a car crash."

"CAR CRASH!" Hagrid hollered, "Lily and James Potter killed in a car crash. Rubbish! As if that could kill them."

Harry didn't know what to think anymore. He was so utterly confused trying to wrap his head around the idea of magic existing. "Can you explain it to me?" He asked, "magic and all that?"

"Yeh really don't know," Hagrid muttered, "I'll tell yeh, but first read this, yer acceptance letter," he handed Harry a letter addressed to Mr. H Potter, The Floor, Hut-on-the-Rock, the Sea.

After Harry read the letter Hagrid told him all about Hogwarts and magic, about the war and the man who had killed his parents on that fateful Halloween night, how he had been the only one to survive and how the man- Voldemort- had disappeared leaving him with only his scar as the reminder of his life before being taken in by the Dursleys.

Harry wanted to believe what the man had said, but he couldn't, he wasn't some hero that ended a war. He was just Harry, Harry the useless, burdensome freak that no one would ever care about, even if he just dropped dead.

Hagrid and Uncle Vernon were fighting now, but little Harry paid them no mind too busy trying to differentiate the truth from the lies.

A door slamming caused Harry to come out of his revive. "What happened," he asked, seeing no one but Hagrid left in the room.

"Don't worry about it Harry, all you need to know is that yeh'll be going to Hogwarts. Come on, put this on and let's get going." Hagrid handed Harry his large black coat which almost caused Harry to fall beneath its weight and walked out the door leaving Harry to scurry after him.

 _"Magic,"_ he thought as he trudged out the door, _"it's real."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit longer than the last two, so I hoped you liked it. I referenced the book while writing this chapter so it follows a similar story line. I condensed all the talk about the war and magic because I didn't want to write the whole thing in detail as the capter was getting too long.


	4. The Bank

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has left kudos and read my story.  
> italicized sentences are thoughts, an italicized word in regular sentences are used for emphasis

Harry awoke to someone shaking him, "Come on lad, let's get going, we need ter get yer supplies."

He shot up out of the bed and away from his attacker, back pressed to the corner of the small room. _"A bed? I don't have a bed, when- oh,"_ last night events flooded his mind, _"right I'm a wizard and we're in the Leaky Cauldron."_ Harry let out a relieved sigh, grateful that it hadn't been a dream. 

Last night after they had excited the old shack, he and Hagrid left on a flying motorcycle, which Harry thought he would've enjoyed if he hadn't been clinging onto Hagrid for dear life.

"Didn't mean to scare yeh. You alright?" Harry nodded, "Good, I'll let yeh get ready fer the day then. When yer ready come down fer breakfast," Hagrid waved goodbye and squeezed through the small door of little Harry's temporary room. 

_"I finally have my own room and bed and I can't even stay here,"_ Harry thought bitterly. He flopped down onto the bed and then got straight back up, he hadn't realised how uncomfortable it felt, were beds meant to be this soft and suffocating? It felt nothing like the hard floor he often slept on, that's for sure. (Most would complain that the inns beds were of the worst quality, not that Harry knew.)

"Ah Harry there yeh are," Hagrid called from a small circular table when he spotted the small boy, "got some porridge fer yeh since I didn't know what yeh usually have."

Harry scarfed down as much as he could, not wanting to eat too much and throw it all up later. Hagrid frowned, but didn't comment on little Harry's behavior.

Once they were done Hagrid led them to a door in the back, Harry didn't know what to expect, but it certainly hadn't been this. Harry wanted to ask what they were doing in there, but kept his mouth shut, he had probably asked more questions yesterday than he had in his whole life. Hagrid started tapping the bricks on the wall and Harry started to wonder if he had been drugged and kidnapped (it made the most sense at the moment), when the wall started to fall apart- no wait- it started to open! Harry couldn't believe his eyes, sure he had flown on a motorcycle, but he thought he had imagined that.

"Welcome," Hagrid said, stepping to the side so that Harry could see the opening clearly, " to Diagon Alley, Harry." 

Said boy stood there, jaw slack, eyes bulging, and mind whirling. Past the opening stood a cobblestone street lined with colorful shops. Harry couldn't tell what kind of shops from where he stood (he swore he saw fire come out of one shop), but he felt it in the air, magic. Pure and absolutely wonderful magic. Harry couldn't stop the rush of excitement he felt, he wanted to explore and buy things, like a wand.

However, little Harry's good mood dissipated as quickly as it had appeared, how could he buy things if he didn't have any money? He didn't want to tell Hagrid that he had come all this way to help him for nothing. He would have to go back to the Dursleys and they wouldn't be happy about _any_ of this.

"C'mon Harry, we need to get ter Gringotts."

"Gringotts," Harry murmured _, "what an odd name, what is it?"_

It wasn't a question, but Hagrid answered anyways, "It's a bank, a wizards' bank, the only one we got. It's run by goblins. Yeh'd have be mad ter steal from goblins, nasty little creatures goblins are," Hagrid muttered the last part probably not meaning for him to hear, so little Harry ignored it for now.

 _"That's all good and dandy,"_ he thought, _"but what good does it do to go to a bank when I still don't have any money?"_

Harry marveled at the great white building they had stopped at, it reminded him of the Leaning Tower of Pisa because, well, it leaned.

They walked up the stairs to the grand door that had some sort of phrase written above it, like the library he'd gone to the day he killed a man had, but just like last time he couldn't read it. He sighed, he'd need to get new glasses, he decided, if they ever got that money.

They walked past the goblin guards at the door, who bowed, and into the building. The inside took his breath away. The grand chandelier and the columns sparkled, as did the floors, the establishment didn't have a speck of dust as far as Harry could see.

"Hullo, we're here to make a withdrawal," Hagrid interrupted a goblin count jewels, "oh- and I got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore about the You-Know-What in vault You-Know-Which."

Giving a nod after reading the letter, the gobin leaned over to stare at little Harry straight in the eyes and sneered, "And does Mister Potter have his key?" Harry, too distracted to feel intimidated, wondered if the You-Know-What in vault You-Know-Which had something to do with Voldemort, or as Hagrid had called him, You-Know-Who.

"I've got it around here somewhere," Hagrid saied, dumping the contents of his many pockets onto the goblin's work space. "Ah, here it is," he pulled out a tiny gold key and Harry felt alarmed, why did Hagrid have the key to his vault? Harry figured that he should have the key, not Hagrid, he didn't even know the man or fully trust him. He'd have to take that before they left, he decided.

The goblin inspected the key, then nodded, "Very well," he said then started to speak in what Harry guessed to be the goblins' language. Soon another goblin came over and the goblin who had attended them addressed them again. "This is Griphook," he told them, "he will lead you to your vaults," and went back to weighing gems.

"Come wizards," Griphook said and the two wizards, opposite as day and night, followed him through a side door, Harry had expected it to look like the room they were just in, not like the mines in Snow White. Though now that he thought about it, dwarfs were probably based on goblins, unless there were actual dwarfs, he'd have to buy a book on this or something he realized.

Griphook whistled and a minecart came whizzing toward them. They climbed in and were off. Harry felt the same as he had when riding the motorcycle, sure he would've enjoyed it, if he wasn't fearing for his life.

They halted suddenly causing Harry to hit his forehead, _"Ow,"_ he thought as he rubbed his head, _"there should be seatbelts or something on this thing. Someone could die."_

The goblin, which Harry now realised was only a head shorter than him, opened the door, green smoke came billowing out, and Harry let out a little gasp. He saw mounds of gold, piles of silver, and heaps of bronze once the smoke disappeared. 

"All yours," Hagrid told him.

All his- Harry couldn't believe it, no way could all this money his. The Dursleys, he recalled, always complained about how much it cost them to take care of him, he could finally pay them back now.

Harry felt delighted, _"Now I won't be ungrateful,"_ he thought.

 _"Ungrateful? What for? Why should we be grateful? What have they ever done for us besides beating us to a pulp?"_ A voice that sounded like a younger him asked from somewhere in his mind. _"We shouldn't have to pay them back. They're the ones who should be grateful, not us."_

 _"Why?"_ Harry asked.

 _"Because they're still alive."_ His younger self replied, sending a shiver down his spine. Had he always sounded this dead when he had been younger? 

Pushing his thoughts aside, Harry took the bag Hagrid handed him and started to fill it with the different colored coins.

"The bronze ones are Knuts, silver ones are Sickles, and the gold ones are Galleons. There are twenty nine Knuts to a Sickle and seventeen Sickles to a Galleon," the goblin informed him (Hagrid told them that he would wait outside, his complexion slightly green). "You should have enough to last for your school year, don't worry we will keep your money safe," Griphook gave him a reassuring smile or at least Harry thought of it as reassuring, he couldn't tell since the goblin also looked as if he wanted to bite his head off. The goblins hadn't done anything to make Harry wary of them, so he decided to trust them for now.

They sped off again, once they were fully seated in the minecart, and went deeper and deeper into the mines. At one point Harry swore he heard something roar and shoot fire at them. He tried to get a better look, but Hagrid wouldn't let him, mumbling something about how unfair it was that the goblins got to have dragons but he didn't.

They stopped shortly after that, "Vault seven hundred thirteen," announced the goblin, "stand back," he ran his long finger along the door and it opened like the brick wall leading to Diagon had. " If anyone other than a goblin from Gringotts had tried to open this door they'd get sucked in and stuck."

That sounded rather silly to Harry, weren't you just giving the thief what they wanted then? What if whatever the vault contained could let people walk through walls or what if the thief was a ghost, then what?

He refocused on the item inside of the vault, a grubby little package sat alone in the large vault. Why would you want such a large and heavily guarded vault for something so small? It couldn't be that important as it was wrapped like any other package and tied with a string. He tried to get a better look at the item now in Hagrid's large hands, but couldn't even see the item because the man's hands were in the way. In the end he gave up, if Hagrid didn't want to tell him then he wouldn't pry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to update ever 5 days. (5th, 10th, 15th and so on.)
> 
> I was going to make this longer, but I didn't finish in time. (I didn't want to break my schedule on the first day). I can't promise to stick to this schedule, but l will try.
> 
> Be sure to comment or leave kudos if you want.


	5. Shopping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's mother's day so go appreciate them. Moms, grandmas, aunts. All of them. And shout-out to my friend, it's her birthday today.

Little Harry entered the robe shop, Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, alone. Hagrid had gone back to the Leaky Cauldron for a pick-me-up, leaving Harry to get his school robes alone.

"Hogwarts, dear?" Asked a witch slightly taller than him dressed from head to toe in a pale purplish color.

Harry nodded and the witch, Madam Malkin, led him to the back to get fitted.

"Hello," said the blonde boy, standing on the stool next to him, "are you going to Hogwarts too?"

"Yes," Harry responded.

"My father's buying me books and my mother's looking at wands up the street. I think it's absurd that first years don't get brooms don't you?"

 _"Broom? Is he talking about a regular one or one that flies?"_ Harry wondered.

"Don't you think it's absurd?" The boy asked again, sounding mildly annoyed.

"Oh, I don't know, it depends."

"Depends? What do you mean it depends?" The boy turned his head slightly to stare at Harry.

"Well- not everyone knows how to fly, right? That rule is there for a reason, so that people don't die." Harry mumbled feeling uncomfortable under his companion's gaze.

"I guess," the boy shrugged, "but no one's going to die. The only people who don't know how to fly aren't our type and they don't deserve brooms anyway."

 _"What type? Do aliens go to Hogwarts or something? And he's being contradictory, wanting a broom, but saying others can't have one."_ Thought the small boy.

"Have got your own broom?"

"No," Harry stated, _"does it look like I can afford a broom? Honestly, he might be blinder than I am. If he thinks so."_

"But you play Quidditch, right?"

"No."

"Why not? According to Father I'm the best, he says it'll be a crime if they don't place me on the House team, do you know what House you'll be in?"

Harry had no idea what Quidditch was or what Houses the boy was talking about. He definitely needed to go to a bookshop.

"No," did children his age usually talk this much? He'd never got the chance to talk to other kids before because of Dudley, but if they did then Harry didn't know how he would survive at Hogwarts.

"I'll be in Slytherin of course. It's the best house by far. Can you imagine being in Hufflepuff? I think I would die." The boy prattled on, talking about who knows what.

Honestly, Harry couldn't care less. He thought shopping for magical supplies would be a lot more interesting. _"I wonder if I can get some better clothes here too."_

"Ma'am," little Harry addressed Madam Malkin in a timid voice, "is it possible to get other clothes that aren't robes?" Robes looked too much like dresses for Harry's liking and the last thing he needed was someone bullying him at his new school.

"I'm afraid not, deary," replied the kind witch, not looking up from her work, "but there's a small shop near the Quidditch shop that sells all sorts of muggle stuff, you could look there."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Why would you want to go _there?_ " The blonde boy sniffed as if the mere idea personally offended him.

"To buy things, what do _you_ go to shops for?" Harry questioned.

"I- I," the boy flushed with embarrassment, "look at that man!" He inclined his head to the window, obviously trying to distract Harry from his previous statement.

Harry discreetly rolled his eyes, he didn't know what was making him be so rebellious at the moment. Maybe it was the magic. He would never ask questions, roll his eyes, or talk back to the Dursleys.

Hagrid stood outside grinning, holding two icecreams. He looked much more lively now than when they had excited Gringotts.

Harry sent him a small smile in return.

"I wonder what he's doing standing outside the window?" The blonde kid asked.

 _"Waiting, obviously."_ Little Harry thought. _"This kid needs glasses more than I do."_

"Say, who are you here with anyways? Your parents?"

 _"Gosh he's annoying,"_ Harry shook his head, "no."

"You're here alone then."

"No."

The boy let out a huff of frustration, "then who are you here with if not your parents?"

Harry didn't get to respond, "you're done dear," Madam Malkin said, and so Harry left.

"Where do yeh want ter go next?" Hagrid asked after they had finished their ice creams.

Harry pointed out the little muggle shop near the Quidditch shop, "There."

Hagrid frowned, "I don't think I'll fit in there. How 'bout you go get what yeh need from there and I'll buy yeh yer ink and things?"

Harry nodded and, after handing Hagrid some galleons, made his way to the little shop, where a bell sounded as he opened the door.

"Good day, how can I help you, kid?" A man asked from behind the counter.

"I need some clothes, do you sell any?" Harry asked, wringing his hands nervously.

The man thought for a moment, "Yes, but since people don't usually want muggle clothes it's in the back. I'll have to see if we have anything for you. Might take me a moment so go ahead and look around," the man's chair scraped against the floor as he got up and disappeared through a door with a golden doorknob.

Harry wandered the little shop and saw an assortment of pens, pencils, notebooks, erasers, and random trinkets, one of which was a rubber duck.

He grabbed a pack of pencils, a pack of pens, gel ones, and two red notebooks figuring that they would be better for note-taking than parchment and quills.

 _"It's odd,"_ Harry thought as he made his way to the front counter, _"that people have magic and flying brooms, but still use quills to write."_

"Here you go lad," the man said when he had returned, " I tried to guess your size, but some of this will probably be too big for you," he pointed to a door, "you can change in there."

Harry tried a variety of clothes in different colors and sizes. In the end, he chose three polo shirts, one light blue, another maroon, and the last was grey with white. He also chose two pairs of jeans, one dark blue and the other black, and lastly a pair of tennis shoes which were white with black stripes on the sides.

"I'll take these please, sir," he said, putting down his stuff on the counter," where do you want me to put the other clothes?"

"Don't worry about it, lad. You also want these notebooks and things?" Harry nodded, "Alright that'll be two galleons and seven sickles." Harry paid the man, took his bagged goods, and left the shop, thanking the man for his help.

Once outside he realized he didn't know where Hagrid was and started to look around for him. Luckily Harry saw him come out of a shop not too far away and raced toward him.

"Ah Harry there yeh are," Hagrid said when he spotted Harry, "did yeh get what yeh needed," Harry nodded, "good, now I was thinking we could get yer books next. Yeh still got yer list right," Harry once again nodded. 

They headed toward a shop called Flourish and Blotts which was filled to the brim with books, there were books that had pictures that moved and books that made strange noises. Some books glowed when Harry touched them and some that tried to bite him, luckily Harry had sharp reflexes so he didn't get hurt.

There was one book, in particular, that caught his attention, it didn't stand out amongst the others, it looked plain and simple, bland even, but Harry felt pulled to it, maybe it was because of the magic or perhaps because it looked simple and normal compared to all the other flashy books and things that were too overwhelming. He didn't know and he didn't care why he wanted it, he just did. He took the small bland book and added to the top of his small stack of books he was carrying before walking back to join Hagrid.

"There you are Harry, I thought I'd lost yeh for a moment. Just like yer mom, it looks like, she always had her nose stuck in a book," said man commented. "I see that yeh've got some extra books."

Harry had, in fact, grabbed some extra books, one on Quidditch, one on recent history, another on different species, and one on magical holidays, plus of course the small bland book.

After they paid and left with their haul (Harry was glad the bags were bigger and lighter than they seemed, that's magic for you) they bought a pewter, standard size 2 cauldron, a set of glass phials, a telescope and a set of brass scales.

"Hagrid," Harry said while they were sitting on a bench resting, "I can't see."

"What do yeh mean you can't see? Is something wrong did someone hex yeh?"

"No," Harry responded quickly, he hadn't meant to worry Hagrid, "it's my glasses, they don't work right."

"Why didn't yeh say something earlier, Harry? If I had known I was leading yeh around blind as a bat then I would've taken yeh straight ter get new glasses. Come on then," he said getting up, "let's go get yeh new glasses."

Harry mentally kicked himself, _"I shouldn't have said anything. Hagrid's already helping me get my school supplies and I just had to go and complain. I should've just kept my mouth shut."_

The process of getting new glasses was a lot less time consuming than what Harry remembered it to be. Granted that had been a couple of years ago. The woman who checked his eyes was appalled when she found out he had been wearing the same glasses for years, leaving little Harry feeling even worse than he did before, he hated causing trouble for people and taking up their time. However, he was kind of glad he had told Hagrid he needed new glasses because now he could actually see!

Once they left Harry headed straight back to the bank to read the passage above the door:

Enter, stranger, but take heed 

Of what awaits the sin of greed, 

For those who take, but do not earn, 

Must pay most dearly in their turn. 

So if you seek beneath our floors 

A treasure that was never yours, 

Thief, you have been warned, beware 

Of finding more than treasure there. 

Harry shuddered, he could feel chills just reading the warning. He glanced timidly at the goblins guarding the door who were looking at him strangely, "I'm sorry, but I just got new glasses," he told them, "and I wanted to read what was above your door before I left- goodbye."

Harry returned to Hagrid who let out a sigh of relief, "There yeh are Harry. You can't just run off like that," his eyes softened when he saw Harry shrink into himself slightly, "I'm not mad, just glad yer alright, lad. Let's go finish getting the rest of yer supplies, we only got yer wand left- oh and I need to get yeh yer birthday present, and then I'll drop you off back home okay?"

Harry fumbled with his word for a minute, "You don't have to get-"

"I know I don't have to, but I want to. I'll get yeh an animal, not a cat 'cause they make me sneeze, and not a toad 'cause they'll laugh at yeh, I'll get yeh an owl. They're awfully handy since they're used to deliver mail."

Harry left Eeylops Owl Emporium a while later with his new companion sleeping in the cage held in his hands. A beautiful snowy owl who had her head tucked under her wing. He thanked Hagrid quietly and rapidly repeating his gratitude over and over again.

"Don't need ter thank me, Harry. Now let's go get yer wand."

The wand shop was completely silent except for a bell that announced the presence, Harry felt as if he had stepped into another world. He couldn't hear the noise from the alley outside and the inside looked ancient and he had a feeling it contained knowledge. The shop was completely empty except for a chair that Hagrid sat down to wait in and the rows of boxes behind the front counter.

"Good evening," Harry flinched at the sudden voice, and Hagrid seemed to have jumped out of his chair going by the sudden scrapping of the chair.

An old man had appeared in front of them. His eyes looked pale and glossy as if he had moons in his eye sockets instead of actual eyes that seemed to stare into his very soul.

"Hello, sir," Harry said timidly.

"I knew I'd be seeing you soon Mr. Potter," said the old, unblinking man. "Yes, it seems as if it were just yesterday that your parents were here. Your mother's wand was ten and a quarter inches long, squishy, made of willow, excellent for charms."

The man stepped closer to Harry.

"Your father, on the other hand, had a mahogany wand, eleven inches. Pliable, with a little more power and great for transfiguration."

The man was standing nose to nose with Harry now and despite wanting to flee, Harry couldn't move.

"I wonder what wand will choose you, Mr. Potter. After it's the wand that chooses the wizard not the other way around."

The man reached out and touched Harry's scar making him flinch, if the man noticed he didn't say anything, just stepped away and spoke again, "I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did that. Thirteen and a half inches, yew. Powerful, very powerful… too bad it ended up in the wrong hands… if I had known..." The man shook his head, then he noticed Hagrid, "Rubeus Hagrid, you had a great wand, such a shame they snapped it when you were expelled."

"How did yeh know they snapped it?" Hagrid asked gruffly.

"Magic. I remember every wand I sell and know when they die, of course, I didn't know it was your wand since all I felt was fleeting magic, but I figured it out."

Abruptly, he turned to Harry, "Which is your wand hand Mr. Potter?"

 _"Wand hand? Does he mean which hand I use for writing?"_ Harry thought, then told the man, "I can use both hands to write, sir."

"Interesting. It's not often I come across ambidextrous people. Makes things slightly more difficult, we'll just have to see," the man murmured, "hold out your arms, good." He measured Harry from head to toe, from the tips of his fingers to his elbows, and in other ways that Harry was sure had nothing to do with holding a wand.

As the man worked he told Harry about the different wand cores he used, phoenix tail feathers, unicorn hairs, and dragon heartstrings. How no two wands were the same and again how the wand chooses the wizard and only that wizard could wield the wand using its full potential.

The tape measure, that was previously measuring between his eyebrows, suddenly fell to the floor causing Harry to jump slightly.

"Here," the man said, holding out a box, "try this one. Red oak, thirteen inches, supple, with a dragon heartstring. Give it a wave."

Harry took the wand with his right hand and waved it hesitantly, only for it to be snatched out of his hand.

"No, no. Here try this one. Larch and phoenix feather, nine and a half inches, squishy. Use your left hand this time."

Harry held it for a fraction of a second before it too was snatched out of his grasp.

"Hawthorn and dragon heartstring, twelve and three fourths, nice and flexible, left hand again please."

Harry waved the wand this time causing a vase to explode.

"No matter," the man said, repairing the vase with a flick of his wand, "here, try this one, willow and unicorn hair, stiff, fifteen inches, use your right hand."

Harry tried wand after wand none of them worked according to the old man. After each wand, the man seemed to get happier and happier while Harry was starting to think that maybe he didn't have magic and it was all just a fluke.

"Tricky customer, eh? Try this one. Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

Harry waved the wand expecting nothing but disappointment, instead, he caused the lights to shatter spraying glass shards everywhere.

"No, no, no," the wand was taken from his hand, "that wand may have worked at some point in your life, but not anymore."

After having repaired the shop making sure his client wasn't hurt, the man disappeared into the rows of boxes.

He came back a while later and with what Harry guessed had to be the one-hundredth wand he'd have to try.

"Applewood with a unicorn core, eleven and a quarter inches long, slightly squishy flexibility. Give it a wave, with your left hand please."

Harry gave it a wave and to his surprise, it shot out a flurry of rainbow sparks and he felt a pleasant warmth spread up his arm and settle in his very core. 

“Seems that your wand has found you Mr. Potter. You’ll find that your wand will be loyal only to you and may not work for others. I trust you’ll take care of it.”

Harry paid his seven galleons and a couple extra for a wand holster, he didn’t want to be apart from his wand for even a second, and followed Hagrid back out into the noisy alley.

“Right,” Hagrid said, “we have time for dinner then I’ll take yeh home.” 

After a dinner of hamburgers and fries, the two wizards flew back to Surrey.

“Goodbye Harry,” Hagrid said once they had landed, “here- your train ticket, hold on to it. I’ll see yeh on September first.”

Before Hagrid got onto his motorcycle again, Harry rushed forward and hugged the big man, “Thank you Hagrid,” the little boy whispered, “this was the best birthday ever.”

Hagrid, too busy waving goodbye and wiping his tears, didn’t notice he had been pickpocketed. Harry waved till Hagrid flew out of view then he smirked, tossing said pickpocketed item into the air then catching it as he walked to the front door. He stuffed his newly acquired treasure into his pocket and knocked happily. He finally had it.

His Gringotts key.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry's attitude depends on who he is around. If he feels he needs to look like an innocent child then he'll play the part. There's a bit more book Harry in this one don't know why he just came out this way.  
> Last thing pairings. As of now romance won't be happening till 3rd or 4th year so just crushes for now. I'm thinking Hermione/Draco (don't usually ship this but I think I'll work since I'm writing this.)
> 
> Ron/? (Open to suggestions) and as the main pairing Harry/Neville. Again I'm open to suggestions.


	6. Author's Note

So I had this idea and I want to hear your opinion on it.

I was thinking of putting Ron in Slytherin. I got the idea from Pinterest (that led me to a person's Tumblr). 

Let me know what you think.

https://pin.it/5q81niC

(There's the link to it, credit to them)

Update: I won't be updating this Friday (15th) of next Wednesday (20th) because I have to focus on finals. I'll try to have a chapter up by the 25th


	7. Fast Moving Vehicles (part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! I posted today (instead of studying)!

Harry spent the last month before school, reading. He had read all his books at least twice at this point except one. The plain, small, bland, leather bound book. Despite buying it, he hadn't touched it since the day at the alley.

A lot had changed since that day. He had headed straight to his cupboard, but Aunt Petunia had told him, with so much fear present in her eyes, that he was now to sleep in Dudley's second bedroom. 

August had been strange to say the least. If he entered a room that Dudley was in then his cousin would squeal like a pig and flee. His aunt and uncle ignored him to the point that most of the time little Harry wondered if he was invisible. He didn't have to do as many chores as before (it was still a lot of chores for someone his age). Harry didn't know if he liked this change or not.

He had checked his new room for anything that Dudley had deemed useless or boring. Honestly, Harry thought Dudley was a bit stupid. His cousin had left a shelf full of books because 'books were useless' and 'who would want to _read_ ' and a Walkman in the bottom drawer of his old, rickety desk.

Harry loved the Walkman, sure it was a little beat up and one side of the headphones didn't work, but he loved it. There was also a pile of cassettes in the drawer and while some of them were great, like the Queen or Foreigner ones, others were complete trash, he couldn't believe people even considered it music.

September first was fast approaching and little Harry had a dilemma, how was he going to get to the train station? The Dursleys wouldn't drive him, Uncle Vernon had already told him that. So how would he get there? He couldn't walk, he'd never get there in time. Maybe he could take a bus. Yes, he would take a bus.

With his mind made up little Harry went to tell his uncle about his decision.

"Uncle Vernon."

The man grunted, showing that he was listening.

"I- I'm taking the bus to London tomorrow," Harry said looking down at his feet, "you don't have to worry about the cost, I've got that covered."

The man grunted again, and Harry left to pack feeling excitement and dread dance together in his stomach.

He woke up at seven the next morning and pulled on the clothes he had bought at the alley. He couldn't take a shower since he had already showered earlier that week and the Dursleys only allowed him two showers a month (he had showered the day after his little shopping trip.)

Fully awake and ready to go Harry triple checked his trunk and headed down stairs to grab a piece of bread, he wasn't allowed anything else, yet it was more than they used to give him.

Once done he left a note on the table and left. Now he just had to find a bus. _"Where am I going to find a bus to London?"_ He thought as he walked past the little park. 

After awhile he got tired and sat down. He really should have planned ahead, how had he not realised his mistake? That's probably why Uncle Vernon hadn't said anything.

He let out a sigh, "Guess I'm not going to Hogwarts," he muttered, taking out his wand and waving it depressingly.

_BANG!_

A purple, three-decker bus appeared in front of him.

"Emergency transportation for a stranded witch or wizard," a man said looking up from his paper. "Welcome to the Knight Bus, where're you headed?"

"Umm…" Harry swallowed, could he trust this man and his bus? _"I'll take that chance, it's better than doing nothing"_ he resolved, "King's Cross Station- in London- please, sir."

"That'll be eleven sickels, go take a seat and I'll take your luggage."

Harry handed the man the money and went inside. The interior was much bigger than he expected it to be. He took a seat near a window, the man said something to the driver and then the bus lurched forward. Harry hit his head on the back of his chair. "Ow," he muttered. He seemed to be the only one who had injured himself, everyone else continued on with whatever they were doing.

"Hogwarts?" The same man from earlier asked.

Harry nodded meekly, "Yes, sir."

"Is it your first year?"

"Yes, sir."

"How come you're riding alone? Where are your parents?"

"Gone, sir."

"Gone? Where'd they go? How come they aren't seeing you off?"

"Because they're dead- sir," Harry whispered.

The man left him alone after that, leaving Harry to watch the blurry (this time because of the speed of the bus, not his glasses) scenery.

"Here we are, kid. King's Cross Station," the man helped little Harry with his luggage and then the bus disappeared with a bang.

Harry's watch read 9:43. He breathed a sigh of relief, he had plenty of time, now he just had to find the platform.

He wandered around trying to avoid bringing attention to himself while looking for the platform. However, he couldn't find platform 9 ¾, he only saw platforms nine and ten.

Sitting down on a bench he stared glumly down at his shoes. ~~He'd tried so hard and got so far, but in the end it didn't even matter.~~ How was he going to get to Hogwarts now?

"....Come, Draco...Hogwarts…away from these filthy muggles," Harry heard someone say. 

_"Muggles, didn't Hagrid mention muggles?"_ He wondered.

"Yes, father," Harry recognized that voice. It belonged to the blonde boy from the robe shop!

Harry stood up quickly and followed the voices through the throng of people. He got close enough to see the back of their robes disappear through the brick wall in-between platforms nine and ten.

 _"How…"_ Harry pondered as he walked towards the wall, _"how'd they do that?"_

Harry tried to touch the wall with his hand, but quickly retracted it when the wall seemed to swallow it whole. To his surprise his hand was still there, he repeated the process a couple of times before deciding it was safe. _"If I have to be swallowed by a wall to get to Hogwarts then so be it."_

The wall did, in fact, swallow little Harry as he passed through it. He saw a scarlet engine and a platform full of people when he reemerged.

Cats of every color were running around and owls were hooting at each other. People were saying goodbye to their children. It was too loud, Harry didn't like it at all. Too much noise. Too many people.

Little Harry pushed his trolley through the sea of people, trying to find a compartment. Most of them were full. He passed a boy holding a box and children hanging out of windows bidding farewell to their loved ones, he even passed a lady with a vulture on her hat talking to a blonde boy.

He found an empty compartment near the end of the train and placed Hedwig, his owl, inside. Then he tried to lug his trunk into the compartment, but he ended up dropping it on his foot multiple times.

"Need a hand?"

Harry whipped around. A tall boy with dark skin, high cheekbones, and long, brown slanting eyes, stood there.

"Yes please," Harry told the stranger.

"There you go," said the tall boy once he had put Harry's trunk on the rack above the seat. "It wasn't all that heavy," he said, looking straight into his eyes.

Little Harry shifted uncomfortably, casting his eyes on the ground to avoid the boy's intense gaze, "Thank you."

"Your welcome," said the boy trying to catch his eye again.

"Blaise," a woman's voice floated through the open door, "where are you?"

"Coming, mother," his companion said trying to catch his eye once more, "see you around," he said with airy indifference before leaving.

Harry plopped down onto the chair, he didn't know why the boy kept trying to look him in the eye, only that his brain was telling him to avoid his gaze at all costs.

He glanced at his watch, 10:45, only fifteen fifteen more minutes till departure.

Harry was brought out of his daydream about brooms and magic by a clamor on the platform. He glanced out the window and saw a family of fiery redheads chatting loudly.

"Ron, you've got something on your nose," said a plump woman attempting to rub off whatever the boy Ron had on his nose.

"Mum- get off!" The tall, lanky boy said.

"Aww does ickle Ronikens got something on his nose?" Two older boys crowed.

"Boys, don't tease your brother. Now, you two be good, I don't want another letter home saying you stole a toilet-"

"We haven't stolen a toilet-," one of the boys said, putting his hand on his chest in mock offence.

"Great idea, though mum," the other boy finished.

 _"Are they twins?"_ Little Harry wondered, _"I've never seen twins before, do all twins act like that?"_

While Harry watched the family he felt a pang in his heart. Why didn't he get a family that loved him? Why didn't he have anyone to worry about him stealing a toilet? Why did nobody want him? Didn't he deserve love too?

 _"Stop it,"_ a voice that sounded eerily alike to his Uncle Vernon rebuked, _"stop being ungrateful, you're fed and have a roof over your head. You even have your own bed. You have so much, yet you want more? No wonder no one wants you."_

At some point during all this, the train left the station and Harry saw houses and trees whizzing by.

"Excuse me, can I sit here? Everywhere else is full," the boy, Ron asked.

"Go ahead," Harry nodded, "it's just me- and Hedwig."

"Thanks," Ron nodded, putting his trunk on the rack, "who's Hedwig?"

"Ah, she's… she's my owl. Sorry."

"What for?" The boy sat down.

"Well, I referred to my owl as if she…" Harry trailed off, not quite sure how to finish his statement.

The boy nodded, seeming to understand, "As if she were your friend? Yeah, I often do that with Scabbers."

"Hey Ron-," a new voice interrupted. (G)

"We'll be up front with Lee-," another continued. (F)

"He's got a tarantula," the first picked up again. (G)

The two boys who had said they were going to steal a toilet stood in the doorway.

"Alright," Ron said and turned to resume talking to Harry, "sorry 'bout them-"

"We're wounded Ronikens-," the second one interrupted. (F)

"You're just going to ignore us?" The one who had greeted Ron said. (G)

"Us? Your older-" (F)

"More experienced-" (G)

"More handsome-" (F)

"Brothers?" They finished together.

"I'm not ignoring _you._ Just pretending you don't exist. There's a difference."

"Ouch, alright mate, cool your fire." (F)

"We're going, see ya at dinner." (G)

Ron glared half-heartedly at his brothers as they left, "So sorry about them, they can be a real pain in the arse sometimes."

"It's fine," Harry muttered utterly bewildered by the interaction he had just witnessed.

"I'm Ron, by the way, Ron Weasley," he held out his hand.

"Ah…I'm Harry," he responded, shaking Ron's hand, "Harry Potter."

Ron's eyes widened and flicked up momentarily to his companion's forehead, before regaining his composure. "It's nice to meet you Harry." Ron grinned, and Harry could tell he was restraining himself from asking a flurry of questions.

"Likewise, Ron. You can ask something- if you like. Of course I'm not trying to tell you what to do, or say that you need my permission to ask questions- or anything like that. I-" Harry was cut off by Ron chuckling.

"Sorry," he said, "I didn't mean to make you panic," he scratched the back of his neck nervously, "guess I made it pretty obvious that I wanted to ask you something, huh?"

"No, not really," Harry muttered, "I'm just used to people asking without saying, I guess."

"It's alright then, if I ask you some questions?"

Harry nodded, and Ron's face split into a wide smile, "you don't have to answer some of these if you don't want to," Ron said. "First question, do you still have the mark, from that night?"

Harry nodded and lifted his bangs, revealing the scare that looked like staccato lightning.

"Wicked," Ron breathed, "it's cooler than I thought I would be," he flushed and rushed out, "of course it's not cool that your parents died, I'm sorry, I-"

It was Harry's turn to chuckle now, "It's fine, I know you weren't suggesting that."

Harry Potter wasn't like Ron had expected, but he found that he liked this quiet, soft spoken boy in front of him. He had expected the young war hero to act like the pampered Draco Malfoy prat, so he was pleasantly surprised by this revelation.

"Right," he continued, "second question, do you remember anything from that night?"

Harry shook his head, "not really, only a lot of green light... and a motorcycle."

"A motorcycle? What's that?"

Harry explained motorcycles which prompted Ron to ask more questions about the muggle world.

"Do you have any of these 'pens' with you?" Ron asked, Harry nodded and gave him a blue gel pen to examine.

"You can have it, if you want," Harry said shyly.

"Really?" Harry nodded and Ron beamed. "My dad really likes muggle things, is it alright if I give it to him?"

Again Harry nodded, he didn't care what Ron did with the pen he was just happy that he made his new companion happy.

The two boys spent a good amount talking about random things. Ron soon realised that Harry wasn't used to talking so much so he would withdraw into himself after talking for a long time. When this happened Ron would give Harry his space and they would sit in companionable silence staring out the window.

"Anything off the trolley, dears?" The trolley witch asked them sometime near noon.

"No thanks, I'm all set," Ron said holding up two seram-wrapped sandwiches. They were corned beef, not his favorite, but it was definitely more filling than sweets.

Ron saw Harry send his nervous glances out of the corner of his eye. _"He's probably worried I'll get offended if he gets something,"_ Ron thought.

Ron sent Harry an encouraging smile, "I'm alright Harry if you want something go ahead. Like I said I've got sandwiches, much more filling than sweets."

Harry fidgeted a bit more before buying two pumpkin pasties and handed one to Ron, looking at his shoes nervously.

Ron usually didn't take hand-outs since his family was against it, but since Harry was the one giving it to him he took it. "Thanks," he said with a lopsided grin, "do you want a sandwich, mum gave me two."

Ron saw Harry's panic. It didn't matter how hard he tried to hide it, Ron was good at reading people, it's what he did. Well, what he did when his family wasn't hovering around. They considered it a Slytherin trait and Slytherin was 'evil'.

Ron didn't see why it mattered so much, yes he loved Gryffindor and it was his ideal house, but he spent his life living with the twins so he didn't want to be in the same house as them. Also being in Gryffindor would mean he would only be overshadowed by his older brothers' success and he'd just be 'another Weasley' and he didn't want to be 'another Weasley' he wanted to be more than that. 

So much more.

The small boy looked like he wanted to reject the offer possibly afraid of being too greedy. However, he also looked like he wanted to accept it, probably not wanting to be ungrateful. 

"Go ahead, take it Harry," he said holding the sandwich out, "consider it payment for the pen and the pastie."

Harry took the sandwich warily, as if afraid Ron would take it back and accuse him of stealing it. Ron didn't doubt that it hadn't happened before. Like stated earlier, he was good at reading people.

"Thank you," the small boy said slowly.

Ron smiled a blinding smile, "No problem, now, eat," he said then proceeded to stuff his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right so I posted this on time, it short, but whatever, I wanted to post today. Also this ain't as edited as the others so yeah sorry.
> 
> I'm sure you could tell, but (G) is George and (F) is Fred. That was there for me to not forget who was speaking, but I left it so you guys know what's up.
> 
> (I struggled writing Ron in this, I don't know what I'm doing.)


	8. Fast Moving Vehicles (part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I still have no idea what I'm doing)

A while later someone knocked and opened the compartment door. The round-faced, blond boy Harry saw talking to the lady with the vulture on her hat stood there. He looked like he had been crying.

“Have you seen a toad?” He asked tearfully. “I’ve lost mine. He keeps running away.”

“No sorry,” responded Ron, “but we will keep an eye out for it-”

“Him.”

“Sorry what?”

“Not it- him. His name’s Trevor.”

“Right, sorry. We’ll keep an eye out for him…” Ron trailed off.

“Neville,” the boy said, “Neville… Longbottom,” the boy Neville seemed to brace himself for something, but the two boys just stared at him. “You’re not going to laugh?”

“Laugh? At what, your last name,” Ron asked Neville who nodded. “No, we’re not going to laugh. I have no right to laugh anyway my last name is Weasly, and Harry’s not the type to laugh at people.”

"But everyone laughs and Weasley isn't as bad as Longbottom."

"True, but still I have no right to laugh, you can't pick and choose what your name is."

"Unless you change it legally," Harry piped in. The two boys just stared at him, "can't magic people do that too?"

"Honestly, I don't know," Ron shrugged, "you'd have to ask Percy, he wants to go into the ministry."

"I'll go then," said Neville, "I've got to find Trevor," and with that he left.

"Do you think we should have helped him?" Harry asked.

"Doubt he would've accepted our help even if we offered," responded Ron.

Harry nodded and resumed looking out the window. Ron meanwhile took a rat out of his pocket.

"He's still sleeping," Ron muttered.

Harry wanted to ask who but held his tongue, he wasn't allowed to ask questions after all.

"This is Scabbers," Ron said, poking the rat, "he's a bit pathetic, doesn't do anything but sleep and eat. He could die and no one would notice. George taught me a spell to make him yellow, but I doubt it'll work, wanna see?"

Harry nodded and Ron took out his wand, "the unicorn hair's starting to poke out," he muttered, the cleared his throat, "sunshine, daisies-"

_Bang!_

The door flew open, "Has anyone seen a toad? A boy named Neville lost his," a girl with brown bushy hair and large buck teeth asked. Neville who stood behind her shot Ron and Harry and an apologetic look.

"No," said Ron, "and haven't you ever heard of knocking? You almost gave Harry a heart attack."

Little Harry froze, how had Ron been able to tell? He made sure to not flinch too obviously.

"Oh sorry," she didn't sound sorry, "are you trying to do magic," she asked, spotting the wand in Ron's hand, "I've only had time to try a handful of spells, but I've memorized the books by heart. I'm the only witch in the family, my parents are dentists you see, so they thought it was a prank, but I wasn't. I'm so happy to be able to go to Hogwarts aren't you?"

Harry sat there stunned, the girl talked really fast. He shared a glance with Ron who sat there equally as stunned.

"I told you I already asked them," Neville told the girl, who still hadn't introduced herself, "I've already asked around."

The girl ignored Neville, "I'm Hermione Granger by the way, and you are?"

"Ron Weasley."

"I'm Harry."

"Harry? Harry who? What's your last name?" Asked the girl bossily.

Harry didn't respond, he had a feeling that if he did then the girl would never shut up.

"Well? I asked you a question, what's your last _name_?"

Harry flinched back at her tone.

"It's none of your business," Ron came to his rescue, "and even if it was, you don't have to ask so rudely."

Hermione scoffed, "I wasn't asking _you._ I was asking _him._ Anyway it doesn't matter, I have more important things to do," she stood up. "Come on, let's go find your toad, Neville," and with that the bossy girl stormed off.

"I'm sorry," Neville said, "she was in my compartment, apparently they kicked her out of her old one. She insisted on helping me find Trevor even though I told her I didn't need help."

"It's alright Neville," Ron smiled.

"Good luck finding Trevor," Harry said.

"Thanks, see you guys later," Neville waved and left.

The scenery outside changed to trees, they were passing through a forest now and it was getting quite late.

"We should probably change," said Ron, "I suspect we'll be there soon."

"Right," Harry muttered, but didn't move from his seat.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, don't worry," he got up and took his robe out of his trunk, "Ron," he hesitated.

"Yeah?"

"I- you- nevermind," he said quickly as he pulled on his robe. He had wanted to ask about the houses and what house Ron wanted to be, but he didn't want to bother Ron more than he already had.

Ron study him, "Alright," he said, "so did you want to see that spell?"

Harry nodded and Ron tried the spell again, but it didn't work. Then their conversation turned to Quidditch and the different teams. Harry knew about Quidditch. He read a book about it, but didn't get why people liked it so much, maybe he just didn't like sports, that or the possibility of falling to his death if he ever played.

The compartment door opened again.

"We already told you we haven't seen-" Ron started to say, but Hermione and Neville weren't standing there. Instead three boys entered their compartment, one of which was the blond boy from the robe shop.

"Are you Harry Potter?" Asked the blond kid.

"Yes," Harry said nervously, the boys on either side of the blond kid looked like literal bears.

"This is Crabbe and this is Goyle," the blond boy said, "and I'm Draco, Draco Malfoy."

Draco puffed out his chest like a peacock, as if he was the most important person in the world.

Harry glanced at Ron to see if he missing something, but Ron only raised an unimpressed eyebrow at Draco.

Draco deflated like a balloon, "Surely you've heard of the Malfoy family, Potter," Harry shook his head. "Where have you been living? Under a rock?"

Harry chuckled, Draco's guess wasn't far from the truth.

"What's so funny?" Draco asked.

"In a house actually."

"What?"

"I've been living in a house, do wizards usually live under rocks?"

"What are you talking about? Why would I live under a rock?"

"I don't know."

Ron cleared his throat, "Is there a reason you're here?"

Draco sneered, "Yes there is, Weasley."

Ron raised an eyebrow again, "Who said I was a Weasley?"

"It's obvious, red hair, stupid face full of freckles and your parents have more children that they can afford," Draco said trying to get a reaction out on Ron.

Ron just stared, "You aren't wrong," he sat down and checked his nails casually, "but at least I'm not a moronic idiot like yourself who thinks he's better than everyone just because of his last name. Who expects to get whatever he wants from his father without lifting a finger. An idiot who can't do anything except throw his father's name around, in other words you are all bark," he looked up, "but no bite."

Draco spluttered, "You'll soon learn, Potter-"

"Ignoring me won't do anything, Malloy."

"It's _Malfoy_ , you weasel."

"Sure, so why are you here again?"

Draco cleared his throat, then turned to talk to Harry, but he wasn't there, "What- where'd he go?"

Meanwhile Harry stood outside the door. He had fled the moment Draco and Ron had started arguing. Years at the Dursleys had taught him to leave whenever people were fighting because no matter what happened, who's fault it was, he always got punished.

"I think you should leave, Malfoy," he heard Ron say, "we'll be arriving at Hogwarts soon anyway."

Draco started to respond but an announcement cut him off, "We will arrive in five minutes, please leave your luggage on the train as it will be taken separately."

He heard Draco huff then the three boys left the compartment, by some miracle they didn't spot Harry, and strode back to their compartment.

Harry stepped back inside, eyeing Ron warily, not sure what he would do.

Ron looked sad, "Sorry, mate. I didn't mean to frighten you, things got a little out of hand there."

"Its- it's fine," he opened his trunk and pulled out his Walkman, "it's not your fault he came here," he put the music player into his robe pocket, "it's mine." He sat down again, "I'm sorry."

Ron ran a hand through his hair, "You don't need to apologise, it's okay, really. What did you put in your pocket?"

"Ah.. my Walkman. It's a muggle device that plays music. I carry it around wherever I go, even if I don't use it."

While Ron didn't really understand how something so small could play music, he understood that this thing was a crutch of sorts. He had read somewhere that some people preferred to have a certain item with them when they were around a lot of people.

It was mostly people with social anxiety who did this. Ron didn't know if Harry had social anxiety, but he could see it in his facial expression, the boy seemed more calm now that he had the thing in his pocket. Ron stored that information away for later.

They stumbled through the crowded corridor and onto the platform where Harry heard a familiar voice.

"Firs' years, firs' years follow me," Hagrid called over the sea of children, "anymore firs' years, mind yer step now."

The first years followed Hagrid toward a dock, "No more than four to a boat, you'll be seeing yer first glimpse of Hogwarts in a minute."

Harry got into a boat with Ron, Neville, and Hermione.

"All aboard? Alright then, onwards!" The big man called.

The boats set off and after they had passed a wall of ivy the children saw Hogwarts in all her glory.

The children made noises of wonder, the sight was truly magnificent.

Harry felt excitement, but he also felt fear. This place was big, too big for his liking.

They went through a tunnel and got off on a small gravel trail leading up to the castle.

"You there," Hagrid said, "is this yer toad?"

"Trevor!" Neville called happily taking the toad from Hagrid's large hands. "I thought I'd never find you."

They stumbled up the path, the only light the first years had came from Hagrid's lamp.

They stopped at a huge set of wooden doors which Hagrid knocked on three times.

The grand doors swung open, revealing a stern faced lady in green robes.

"The firs' years professor," Hagrid addressed the lady.

"Thank you, Hagrid, I'll take them from here." she pulled the door wide open and let them inside.

The hall was big, as large as three regular houses at least. It was way too big. Little Harry didn't like it, not at all. It made him feel vulnerable, open to attacks.

A hand came down on his shoulder and he flinched, hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's shorter, but this was a part two, so yeah. Would've been one chapter if I had waited to post today and not on Wednesday. Also I'm out of school (yay summer!)


	9. Not actually a chapter

Right so, sorry this isn't a chapter.

In other news, I started an other fic that I may or may not continue. I don't know yet.

It's a time travel fic.

This fic is still continuing and will be my main focus, the other one is just there. I had an idea so I wrote it down.

Go check it out if you want, feedback is welcome.

If I do decide to continue my other fic it won't have a update schedule like this one, just whenever I feel like.

Have a nice day.


	10. The Intrusive Hat (part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll finish this tomorrow, sorry. The Hat's song is from the HP wiki page. Enjoy the chapter!

"Ah, sorry Harry," Ron said sheepishly, "didn't mean to scare you, it's just we're supposed to be following the professor. You were spacing out."

"It's fine," Harry gulped, he could hear the buzzing of multiple voices coming from the doorway to their right.

The professor, who had introduced herself as Professor McGonagall, led them to a chamber off on the side of the hall. However the room was a bit too small so the first years had to squish together to fit.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said the professor, "you all will be sorted momentarily into your houses. While at Hogwarts your houses will be your families.

"There are four houses, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, Slytherin," Harry noticed that she didn't seem too happy about the house by the way her voice stiffened ever so slightly, "and Ravenclaw," she finished.

"Each house competes to get the most amount of house points to win the house cup at the end of the year. You will earn house points for your triumphs and lose them for any rule breaking.

"The Sorting Ceremony will begin shortly in front of the rest of the students. I suggest you smarten yourselves up while you wait. I will return when we are ready for you, please wait silently," with that she took off.

Harry waited quietly as told. He didn't dare move, too terrified to even think straight. He knew they'd be sorted by a talking hat, it was mentioned in  _ Hogwarts, A History _ , but he didn't know they'd have to be sorted in front of the whole school. He felt faint, he didn't like being the center of attention, the world started to spin and his ears started to ring, he wanted to hurl.

"Harry?"

Someone called faintly, but he couldn't make out who.

"Harry, calm down, breath," the voice, Ron, Harry realized, told him, "I," the redhead hesitated, "I think you're having a panic attack, but I don't know. You've got to breath, um…"

Ron was at a loss of what to do. He didn't know how to identify if someone was having a panic attack, but Harry's breathing was uneven and the boy was shaking. What was he supposed to do?

"Breath… try counting down from ten with me," Ron suggested, counting was something he used to do when he was little to help him calm down, maybe it would help Harry too.

Ron counted down with Harry. They counted down twice before Harry calmed down a bit, the boy still seemed agitated but at least he'd stop hyperventilating.

"Are you alright now?" Ron asked.

Harry opened his mouth to respond but no words seemed able to escape him, so he swallowed and nodded.

Ron breathed a sigh of relief, "Good, I'm glad that worked," his brows furrowed in concern. "Does that happen often."

Again Harry shook his head, "It's only happened twice before, this was the third time that happened."

"What do you usually do to calm down?"

"Nothing."

Ron wanted to ask more, but he realized that it was neither the time or place to discuss such things. That and Harry wouldn't tell him anything else, even if he asked. He seemed the type to hate burdening others with his problems, but Ron decided he would help Harry anyway, no matter what.

The boys were startled out of their thoughts by screams and gasps of surprise.

They turned around and saw about twenty ghosts come out of the wall.

"Forgive and forget, I say," a cheery looking Friar said, "he deserves a second chance, as does everyone."

"My good sir," a ghost wearing tights and a ruff told the Friar, "we've given Peeves multiple second chances, he never improves. He gives us ghosts a bad reputation, he isn't even a ghost. Oh, who are you?"

The ghosts seemed to finally notice the children. No one answered.

"Ah first years," said the Friar happily clapped, "about to be sorted, yes?"

Some children nodded.

"Well I hope to see you in Hufflepuff, that's my old house," the Fat Friar winked cheekily.

"Move along now," came the sharp voice of Professor McGonagall, "the Ceremony's about to begin."

The ghost disappeared through the opposite wall, one by one. The Friar waved cheerily, wishing them all good luck before he vanished.

"Form a line and follow me please," the professor told them.

The children walked into the Great Hall, all of them feeling nervous. Harry looked up to avoid seeing all the staring people.

If Harry hadn't read beforehand about the ceiling he might have thought there wasn't one. As all he saw was a clear dark night sky littered with stars.

"It's not really the sky, it's just enchanted to look that way," he heard Granger whisper quickly. "I read all about it in  _ Hogwarts, A History. _ "

The first years came to a stop and Professor McGonagall put down a three legged stool in front of them. She then took an old hat out and placed it on the stool.

_ "The Sorting Hat," _ Harry realized, staring at the old hat. It looked different then how he thought it would look.

Everyone stared at the hat, then the brim of the get split open and it started to sing:

> _ "Oh you may not think I'm pretty, _
> 
> _ But don't judge on what you see, _
> 
> _ I'll eat myself if you can find _
> 
> _ A smarter hat than me. _

> _ You can keep your bowlers black, _
> 
> _ Your top hats sleek and tall, _
> 
> _ For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat _
> 
> _ And I can cap them all. _

> _ There's nothing hidden in your head _
> 
> _ The Sorting Hat can't see, _
> 
> _ So try me on and I will tell you _
> 
> _ Where you ought to be. _
> 
> _ You might belong in Gryffindor, _
> 
> _ Where dwell the brave at heart, _
> 
> _ Their daring, nerve, and chivalry _
> 
> _ Set Gryffindors apart; _
> 
> _ You might belong in Hufflepuff, _
> 
> _ Where they are just and loyal, _
> 
> _ Those patient Hufflepuffs are true _
> 
> _ And unafraid of toil; _
> 
> _ Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, _
> 
> _ if you've a ready mind, _
> 
> _ Where those of wit and learning, _
> 
> _ Will always find their kind; _

> _ Or perhaps in Slytherin _
> 
> _ You'll make your real friends, _
> 
> _ Those cunning folks use any means _
> 
> _ To achieve their ends. _
> 
> _ So put me on! Don't be afraid! _
> 
> _ And don't get in a flap! _
> 
> _ You're in safe hands (though I have none) _
> 
> _ For I'm a Thinking Cap!" _

The hall burst into applause. The noise was overbearing, Harry didn't like the racket, but at least the song rhymed. However Harry was worried,  _ "I don't fit any of those descriptions. There's no house for useless freaks like me." _

_ "You're not a freak,"  _ his younger self had returned. Harry hadn't heard him since the day at the bank.  _ "I know we'll be sorted, no matter what. I'll make sure of it." _

Harry shivered, he didn't like that voice, it scared him. It had only appeared twice, but whenever it did it always made dark promises.

"When I call your name," started Professor McGonagall, "come up and sit on the stool to be sorted," she cleared her throat, "Abbott, Hannah!"

A pink faced girl with pigtails stumbled up and sat on the stool.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" Called the Sorting Hat after a couple seconds.

The girl skipped away to join the table of the Badgers' while everyone else cheered and clapped.

Again, Harry found it all too loud. He hoped this would all be over soon.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" The Hat called again and again there was applause.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Brocklehurst, Mady" joined Boot in Ravenclaw and "Brown, Lavender" was the first to go into Gryffindor joining the outer table on the left.

The applause from the House of the Lions was thundurus. Harry cringed, the noise made his ears hurt.

"Bulstrode, Millicent" joined the Slytherins' at the outer right table.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin" was another Hufflepuff.

The next boy, "Finnigan, Seamus" sat under the Hat for a minute or so before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.

"Granger, Hermione," the bossy, bushy haired girl, rushed up next. She stayed under the hat for a few minutes before she too was sorted into Gryffindor.

After her followed, "Longbottom, Neville."

Harry heard a few people snicker at his name and then laugh lowly when he tripped and fell.

Ron shot those people glares, until they got the message and shut up.

Neville was sorted into Gryffindor and he ran off still wearing the hat, causing people to laugh again.

And again Ron glared at those people, making them stop. Ron had an intimidating glare.

Nevily gave the Hat to "MacDougal, Morag", who was sorted in Ravenclaw, and scurried off to his respective table.

"Malfoy, Draco" swaggered up to the hat and unfortunately fell face first after tripping on his robe.

Ron snickered next to him, "Serves Malloy right."

When Malfoy got up he dusted off his robes, face dusted a light pink, he continued to the stool as if nothing happened.

The Hat barely touched his head before it yelled, "SLYTHERIN!" and Malfoy swaggered away, without tripping this time, joining his friends Crabbe and Goyle.

The group of first years was dwindling.

"Moon", "Nott", "Parkinson", "Patil", followed by another "Patil" and a "Perks" were all sorted before Professor McGonagall called-

"Potter, Harry!"

The hall broke into whispering, Harry hated the sound, he didn't want to go up.

"Go on mate," Ron encouraged him. "Just pretend no one's there, alright?"


	11. The Intrusive Hat (part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I didn't post yesterday, life got in the way.

The last thing before the hat fell on his head were thousands of eyes staring at him. He didn't like the feeling, not at all.

"Ah," said a voice near his ear, "difficult. Yes, you've got a good mind, and survival instincts. Oh goodness, best instincts I've seen in a while...not since him… no matter. Anywhere you want to go? Perhaps Gryffindor like your parents?"

 _"No thank you,"_ thought Harry, well aware that the hat could hear his thoughts, but preferred to talk out loud as to not spook the children. _"They seem too loud. I don't think I belong anywhere anyways. Your song didn't say where people like me go."_

"People like you?" Inquired the Hat.

Harry nodded, _"Yes people like me, freaks."_

Little Harry called himself a freak with so much assurity that it saddened the Sorting Hat. Alas the Hat couldn't do anything as he was only a talking hat.

"I believe I know where to put you," murmured the Hat, "I wish you the best of luck in," the Hat paused then shouted, "SLYTHERIN!"

When Harry took off the Hat he was met with deafening silence. The one thing he hated more than overwhelming noise was overwhelming silence.

It was like someone had paused a movie.

Then someone's clapping filled the hall. Harry's eyes darted to the source, Neville. Neville was clapping. For him, Harry. His clapping was followed a second later by Ron's, then the boy, Blaise, who helped him on the train clapped too. Though it seemed he only did it to be polite.

Ron's sharp whistle snapped everyone out of the dream like state and the hall filled with polite but resigned applause.

Harry walked stiffly over to the table of the Snakes' and sat down next to a girl, Tracey Davis, if he recalled correctly.

The Sorting continued on with "Thomas, Dean" going next, but Harry noticed everyone kept on shooting him disgusted, frightened or wary glances. It was nothing Harry wasn't used to, so he paid them no mind and glanced up at the High Table.

He caught Hagrid's eye and the large man gave him a strained smile. Harry felt hurt, but only a bit. He shouldn't get attached to anyone at Hogwarts, he'd only cause himself pain if he did.

However a part of him still wished desperately for friends, for someone to rely on. He thought maybe, just maybe that Ron could be his friend, but he didn't get his hopes up. Getting his hopes up only led to pain, and Harry would do anything to avoid that pain.

He glanced at said boy. Ron stood gazing at him with an expression that Harry couldn't figure out, his mind raced, it wasn't disgust or fear, nor was it hate, but it was intense and his eyebrows were furrowed together, so it couldn't be good. 

It was never good when Harry couldn't read people. It meant he didn't know what to expect and that frightened him. With the Dursleys he always knew what to expect.

When Dudley furrowed his brow and his tongue poked out of his mouth it meant he was thinking of places he and his friends could play 'Harry Hunting.' When his Uncle chewed on his mustache and his face went red it meant danger because his uncle was mad. When his aunt pressed her lips together in a tight line it meant he'd done something wrong and would be punished.

But with Ron he didn't know what to expect and he didn't like that. Not. At. All.

"Weasley, Ron" went up after "Turpin, Lisa" who became a Ravenclaw.

Ron went up to the stool, that unreadable expression still on his face, and sat down to be sorted.

He took a while, longer than Granger. He seems to be arguing with the hat or having a pleasant conversation with it. Harry couldn't tell.

Finally the Hat announced, "You really do belong in SLYTHERIN!"

The hall was silent again, but Ron didn't seem to notice. He just placed the Hat on the stool and strode over to Harry. Then he sat down next to him, ignoring the disgusted glares from the rest of the Slytherins.

"Hey mate," Ron said, "looks like we're in the same house, so you're stuck with me 'till we graduated," he gave Harry a blinding smile. "It also means that we're friends now, no excuses." (Some child's logic for ya there.)

Harry was so gobesmaken that he didn't notice that 'Zabini, Blaise" joined the Slytherins too. Ron wanted to be friends? With _him_ , Harry? But why? Who would willingly want to be friends with him?

Dumbledore rose to his feet, beaming, arms open wide as if to hug everyone. "Welcome to Hogwarts. Before we begin the feast I'd like to say a few words, and here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you, that is all."

Everyone clapped, though Harry noticed that the Slytherins only did so out of politeness, some of them were sneering.

Ron's voice caught his attention, "Finally, I'm starving," he said.

Harry glanced down at the table and did a double take, it was laden with food. Roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and peppermint humbugs.

Harry had never seen so much food in his life. He suddenly got nervous, was he allowed to eat this? He glanced around, everyone else was serving themselves a good amount of food.

He turned to Ron who was eating as elegantly as he could, trying not to stuff his face even though he was starving.

"Something wrong, Harry?" He asked, noticing the small boy staring at him.

The boy shook his head.

Ron frowned slightly, Harry's plate was empty, it was like- like he wasn't used to eating.

"You can eat, y'know," Ron told him, "it's alright."

"Right," muttered Harry as he started to put a small amount of food on his plate, "right."

Harry ate a small amount of roast chicken and potatoes before he was full because his stomach couldn't handle so much food. (To Harry it was a lot but to the others it would only be a light snack.)

Harry was startled by a scream coming from the Gryffindor table. The ghost wearing a ruff seemed to have decapitated himself. He glanced at the ghost sitting next to Malfoy, who was covered in blood and chains, Harry would take the silent blood covered ghost over the headless chattering ghost any day.

Once everyone had their fill the food disappeared and was replaced by desserts. Icecream, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding, orange slices…

Harry served himself some fruit, he did think he could handle any of the sweet things, he'd probably puke. Ron served himself some creme brulee apparently it was his favorite dessert, but he never got to eat it.

After a while the desserts also disappeared and Dumbledore rose to his feet again. The hall fell silent.

"Now that we are all watered and fed I'd like to remind you all of some things before I let you all turn in for the night.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. Some of you older students would do well to keep that in mind." 

Harry noticed he looked at the Weasley twins when he said this.

"I've been asked by Mr. Filch, our caretaker, that magic should not be practiced in the corridors.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term, those interested in joining are to contact Madam Hooch.

Finally, those who do not wish to die a painful way are to stay clear of the third floor corridor on the right hand side. It is also out of bounds this year."

Was the man joking? It didn't seem so. Well Harry made up his mind right then and there, be would stay far away from that corridor. He didn't want to die just yet, thank you very much.

"And now let us sing the school song," declared Dumbledore, "everyone pick their favorite tune and we're off."

Ribbony words appeared in the air that everyone started to sing:

> ‘Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,
> 
> Teach us something please,
> 
> Whether we be old and bald
> 
> Or young with scabby knees,
> 
> Our heads could do with filling
> 
> With some interesting stuff,
> 
> For now they’re bare and full of air,
> 
> Dead flies and bits of fluff,
> 
> So teach us things worth knowing,
> 
> Bring back what we’ve forgot,
> 
> Just do your best, we’ll do the rest,
> 
> And learn until our brains all rot.’

Everyone finished at a different time, the Weasley twins last. Harry nor Ron participated, most of the Slytherins didn't either.

"Ah music!" Dumbledore declared wiping a tear from his eye, "A magic beyond anything we have here. Now, off you trot and in bed you hop."

The first year Slytherins followed a prefect who introduced herself as Gemma Farley, who led them through a door on the right side of the Entrance Hall. They went down a set of stone stairs and Harry noticed that the air was getting colder.

"Our common room is located in the dungeons," said Farley, "as are the dormitories, the potions classroom, and our Head of House's office.

Professor Snape is our Head of House, he also teaches potions. Now that you are in Slytherin you are expected to be on your best behavior. The rest of the school don't take well to us, so we must represent a unified front.

This does not mean you have to like everyone, but it does mean that you will keep your problems and petty arguments _inside_ the common room.

Professor Snape is there if you need help, but you better not rely on him soley. You're no longer at home were your 'mummy' and 'daddy' drop everything to help you."

She said all this without looking at them, she also didn't seem to care that some people didn't have parents (Harry), or were missing one (Blaise).

She stop infront of a blank wall, "Here we are," she said turning around, "this is the entrance to the common room. It hasn't been found by any of the non Slytherin students smfor about a hundred years so it better stay that way.

To enter simply say the password, which will change every fortnight, and it will open."

She turned to the wall again, "New passwords will be posted on the common room notice board, pay attention to it. For now the password is 'Water Cobra'."

The wall slid open revealing a large, rectangular room at the bottom of some wide stone stairs.

"This is our common room, as you can see this is were students of all ages hang out. If you want to enjoy this room too you will have to clean up after yourselves. Now before you all complain I'm not asking you to mop the floors or clean the chandilir. I just want you to dispose of your trash properly and not leave your books and pens lying around because if you do them you might get a nasty surprise," she smiled wickedly.

"Before any of you ask, yes we are under the lake. Now girls, your dorms are up those stairs that go to the right, your name will be on the your door.

Boys your dorms are up these stairs that lead left, your names will also be in your doors. You will find your stuff already in there, if you are missing something save your complaints untill tommorow.

"Oh and one last thing, boys shouldn't try to go up to the girls' dorm unless they want to get a most… unfortunate… result," there was that smile again. "Now go to bed."

Harry followed the other first year boys up the left staircase, everyone seemed tired, but that didn't seem to stop Malfoy from talking everyone's ears off.

Harry found his room, he'd be sharing with Ron and Blaise- well Zabini, since the boy hadn't given him permission to call him by his first name. Wizarding ettique was weird.

Harry's trunk sat at the foot of the middle bed with Ron on his left. In between their two beds was the door that led to the bathroom.

Harry quickly changed into his pajamas (one of Vernon's shirt that looked like a dress on him) while his roomates were in the loo.

After he brushed his teath he fell into his bed, but then got back up again. It was way softer than the one at the inn.

"Everything alright?" Ron asked him sleepily as he snuggled into his own bed.

Harry nodded before realizing Ron couldn't see him in the dark. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Mmm. G'night mate." Ron yawned and murmured, "These beds are  _ so _ soft, wish my bed was like this."

Little Harry didn't understand how Ron or Zabini could sleep in such a suffocating thing but he let it go in favor of staring out the window.

He waited until the two boys drew their curtains closed before sitting down in the alcove the window provided. 

He sighed.

_ "It's going to be a long year," _ he thought as he drifted off to sleep curling up into a small ball.

_ "Magic better be worth it." _

This is how little Harry spent his first night at Hogwarts. Not in a bed like the other students, but on the cold stone floor that gave him (a sick sort of) comfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Attention readers: I'm thinking for now I'll have Ron have a crush on Victor during fourth, maybe go on a date or two however that's as far as it will go (apologies, I just feel that ship doesn't fit my story.)  
> I still don't have an end ship for Ron so keep suggesting (I'll edit this once I do).  
> Lastly so far we have Harry/Neville, Hermione/Draco, and Ron/?  
> Any other suggestions for ships you'd want to see?  
> Oh and Dean/Seamus will be a ship too.


	12. Not a chapter

All right sorry for not posting an actual chapter today.

I'm afraid this work will go on hiatus for a while.

I don't know when I will return, but don't worry I won't make you guys wait more than a month (hopefully).

When I return I think my schedule will change to once a week instead of every five days.

Apologises, as for my other work, well I don't know if I'll continue it.

I'm lacking motivation for both stories at the moment and I'd rather give you good chapters not half-assed ones.

Stay safe everyone.

(I'm sorry)


	13. Class Troubles (part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back!! It's been a month. Anyways I was going to do Harry's first week and include potions but then I realised this was quite long so I'll update part two tomorrow (probably). I'll be updating on Mondays from now on. Enjoy!

Harry found it odd that he woke up without someone shouting at him. The dorm was eerily quiet, but that wasn't too strange seeing as it was four in the morning. Harry was used to waking up early. When he got Dudley's second bedroom he was also given an old, beaten up, alarm clock, not that he needed it.

He found the whole process strange. Taking a shower without someone yelling at him or Dudley pranking him made him extremely nervous. Brushing his teeth and combing his hair without his cousin poking him in the ribs set his nerves on edge. Changing into clothes that were of good quality and actually fit him made him worry that someone would burst through the door and tell him to take it off because 'freaks like you don't deserve nice clothes' and 'you're contaminating perfectly good clothes with your freakiness.'

Overall it left Harry more on edge than he had been when Dudley and his gang were 'Harry Hunting' and he ended up on the school roof. He shuddered, the punishment he got for that left him sore for weeks and didn't let him participate in gym class, not that anyone complained. No one ever wanted Harry on their team.

Little Harry, not knowing what else to do, decided to reread his school books. He was really quite nervous. What if he was behind, or given a pop quiz, or even worse, expected to perform magic. Sure, he had read about magic but he had yet to perform any spells.

As the clock neared the six marker a couple of older bleary-eyed students emerged from their dorm. Harry watched them silently, as they had yet to spot him sitting on the sofa.

Once they noticed Harry, a tall boy with short black hair asked, "How long have you been sitting there?"

"Since 4:30," Harry responded meekly, averting his gaze to the floor.

"Couldn't sleep?" Others would ask this question with concern filling their voice, however the boy used a completely pleasant tone. As if he was discussing the weather.

"No," Harry assured him quickly. He didn't need to worry anyone. "I usually wake up around four anyway..." His voice died away as he tucked his hands under his legs to prevent them from shaking.

A blond girl turned to him, "We're headed to the Great Hall for breakfast. Would you care to join us?" The girl talked animatedly causing her curly hair to fall into her face.

"Of course you don't have to join us," she continued, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "If you would rather wait for the others to wake up to try to find your way to the Great Hall that's fine too."

Harry accepted their offer and trailed after them through the cold dungeon corridors. 

Others, such as Malfoy, would have refused the offer out of spite, claiming to remember the way because they were too prideful to accept help.

But not Harry.

Hogwarts was a nice place, yes, but it was also  _ unknown _ . He hadn't left the common room because he wasn't familiar with Hogwarts and that left him open to attacks. Even if it was unlikely for someone to attack him since Dudley wasn't around he still wouldn't take that chance.

_ “Better safe than beaten to a pulp.” _ Thought Harry grimly.

"You must be Harry Potter." The blond girl stated. "I expected you to be in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff not Slytherin."

Harry nodded jerkily. His body tensed up, ready to run. He didn't think these people would hurt him, but one can never be too careful.

"I'm Zoe Accrington." Her hair bobbed around her. "I'm a third year, as is Adrian." She nodded to the tall boy who had first addressed Harry.

Said boy sighed. "That's Pucey to you, Accrington," he told her tiredly as if this was a common occurrence.

Accrington slapped the tall boy's back hard enough to make him stumble. "Sure it is Adrian. Anyways...," she turned back to Harry, "how was your first night Potter? Not too scary I hope."

Harry almost laughed. Talking to these people was much scarier than sleeping on the cold stone floor of the dungeons.

"I slept fine, thank you."

Accrington gave a fake gasp. "Look at that Adri! Potter's just a child and politer then you are!"

"Sod off Accrington!" Pucey said without turning around.

"See?" She giggled.

Pucey flipped her off and she gasped.

"There is a child present!"

"Are you talking about yourself?" Pucey asked.

Accrington, deciding to be the mature one, stuck her tongue out at him.

Honestly Harry didn't care how Pucey acted, it was nothing compared to Dudley's behavior. Sure, his cousin knew plenty of swear words, but that didn't mean he used any of them in the right context. Of course none of the other kids said anything because Dudley was... well… Dudley. Harry found it quite amusing when Dudley tried to insult someone and he used a swear wrong.

As the two older Slytherins continued to argue, Harry pretended he didn't hear Accrington cuss out Pucey while he tried to memorize the route they were taking.

The Great Hall was mostly empty seeing as breakfast had just started. His companion's made their way to their respective table while Harry lingered awkwardly by the door. The small first year wasn't sure where to sit.

_ "Do the first years have a specific place to sit?"  _ He wondered.

"Perhaps you think that because you are a 'war hero' you can do whatever you want, but that is not the case Mr. Potter," said a silky smooth voice behind him causing Harry to flinch. He hadn't heard anyone walk up to him. "It seems that you are not informed of how we do things here so let me enlighten you. You see here it is considered rude to linger in the middle... of doorways."

Harry turned around and looked up at the man speaking to him. He was quite pale, had long curtain like black hair which was covered in a thin layer of grease, and a long hooked nose that looked like it had been broken several times.

"Yes sir. Sorry sir. I won't do it again sir." Harry said quickly, moving to the side to allow the man to pass.

The man sneered at him, "For your sake, Potter, let us hope you won't forget. Since you are already wasting my time I might as well give you your schedule." He said handing Harry a sheet of paper. "You may find it surprising, Potter, but here you are expected to be in class on time." The man then entered the hall, robes billowing behind him.

The man's voice reminded little Harry of caramel. Smooth, slow, captivating, sticky, and hard to get rid of.

Harry scurried over to the Slytherin table and took a seat not too far from the door, just in case he needed to run. He cautiously served himself some cereal and a banana not daring to take too much food.

The hall slowly started to fill with students, most of which started to whisper and stare when they spotted Harry who sat alone. Harry didn't mind though as he was used to eating alone at school because of Dudley.

Harry was buttering up a piece of toast when Ron dropped into the seat next to him.

"Wotcher Harry," Ron greeted. "How'd you sleep?"

The question startled Harry a bit. "Fine," he said. "You?"

"Like a log mate," Ron said while filling up his plate with food. "I honestly thought it'd be too cold to sleep seeing as we were in the dungeons." The redhead paused to eat a piece of sausage. "So glad that's not the case. Mm. These are really good. Have you had breakfast already?"

"Yes."

"I hope it was more than that piece of toast." To those around them Ron sounded as if he was joking, but he wasn't. He really did hope Harry ate more than a slice of bread.

"I did," Harry told him. "I had a bowl of cereal and a banana."

Ron nodded and swallowed his bite of food. "Good," he said and went back to eating.

While the two boys chatted and Ron stuffed his face the professor from earlier made his way down the table handing other people their schedules.

"Your schedule Mr. Weasley," he said when he had reached them. "I do hope you'll take after your brother Percy though seeing how the twins turned out I won't get my hopes too high."

"Cool." Ron said as he took the schedule from the man. "Thanks Professor Snape."

The man's mask of indifference slipped for a second. "I expect you to be on your best behavior." He sneered before gliding away.

Ron scoffed. "Just met him and he's insulting my family," he muttered. "Slimy git."

"That's our Head of House you're talking about Weasley, mind your tongue" A boy with a Prefect badge scolded. "It's not his fault your family are a bunch of poor blood traitors. Usually I'd deduct points, but I'll let it slide since it's your first day and you don't know any better. However, I recommend you learn how to respect your superiors." He said snootily.

Ron sneered. "I show respect to those who deserve it. Currently you and Snape aren't on that list."

The boy choked on his pumpkin juice drawing the attention of others around. He cleared his throat regaining his composure. "It seems the Weasleys are more barbaric than I thought. I figured they'd at least teach their children how to respect others, guess I was wrong."

Ron raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "Give me one good reason I should respect you. I can't seem to think of anything."

The boy spluttered, "Don't you know who I am Weasley?"

"No." Ron said simply as he cut some ham on his plate.

"I'll have you know you blood-"

"Well Harry," Ron cut the Prefect off, "I think we should get to class. I for one don't want to be late on my first day as that would be barbaric."

Ron stood up, smiling pleasantly, and walked towards the door with Harry following close behind.

Once outside the hall Ron's smile dropped and he sighed. "I hate it," he said, "when people think they know me because of how my family acts." He turned to Harry, "Do you know what class we have. I just realized I left my schedule on the table. I didn't even get to finish my ham." He told him glumly.

"Transfiguration, also I grabbed your schedule." Harry said as he handed Ron his schedule.

"Thanks mate," Ron said, leading Harry down a corridor, "I think it this way- anyway did you see the look on his face, bloody hilarious. Didn't expect him to choke on his juice, guess he didn't see it coming. Bet he thought I'd try to pick a fight with him like a Gryffindor or defend my family's honor." He glanced at Harry, "I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable, mate. If there's one thing I can't stand, it's bullies. They just piss me off so much."

"No it's okay," Harry said, quickening his pace to keep up with Ron's long strides. "I don't like bullies either. I'm glad you stood up to him, not many people confront bullies."

"Tell me about it." Ron agreed. "Anyway I think this is it." He pushed open the door revealing a large room, a couple of students and a cat with square markings around its eyes sitting on the teacher's desk. "Why's a cat in here?"

"Don't know. Let's just take our seats."

"Potter, Weasley." Zabini nodded in acknowledgement after the pair had taken their seats behind him.

"Zabini," Ron greeted. "Since you're here I'm assuming this is, in fact, where we are supposed to be."

"You assume correctly. How did you two sleep? I do hope you're not having second thoughts about being in Slytherin."

"We both slept well, thank you. No second thoughts yet, as the day has just started. How about you?"

"Slept fine, though I admit I was quite disappointed by the quality of our dorms. Mother made them out to be better than they are."

Ron was about to respond when Harry's giggle caught their attention. Harry thought they both sounded very formal, as if they were business partners or something.

"Sorry," the raven haired boy muttered, "it's just you both sound so formal it's weird."

A smile appeared on Ron's face. "You're right. I sound like that prefect don't I?"

"A bit." Harry giggled again, "It's like you two are discussing some important business. All you need is a monocle, a mustache, maybe a cane, and a top hat to complete the image."

Ron snorted. "Not the mustache, but I think I could totally rock a monocle. Maybe the top hat too."

"Totally," Harry smiled.

The bell rang, signalling the beginning of class, however the Professor had yet to appear.

Murmurs started to fill the class as the Slytherins wondered where their teacher was.

Malfoy was being quite loud in particular, bragging about this, that, and the other.

"Does he ever shut up?" Ron wondered aloud. "I don't think anyone cares that he has seven of the same broom or that his father's peacocks are 'whiter than the whitest and purest of snow' or that they are 'softer than Puffskeins'."

Apparently Malfoy had excellent hearing and could hear Ron's remark from across the room.

"Jealous, Weasley?" Malfoy called.

"No, not really."

"Well you should be." The blond boy said smugly, "My father's peacocks are worth more than your sorry excuse of a house."

"If you say so," Ron shrugged.

"I don't say so Weasley, I know so. Though I suppose a blood traitor like yourself wouldn't know the difference seeing as your family are a bunch of-"

"Boys, if you could please stop shouting across the room so that I could start with today's lesson," came the sharp voice of Professor McGonagall.

Ron's face turned scarlet, "Sorry Professor." He hadn't noticed her enter the room.

Malfoy scoffed, but sat down in his seat again muttering about blood traitors and peacocks.

McGonagall took roll and class proceeded without any further interruptions. The class was mostly note taking, but near the end they were each given a match and instructed to turn it into a needle. Only two people managed, Daphne Greengrass and Blaise Zabini though Theodore Nott had managed to make his match metal.

Malfoy, despite his boasting, couldn't get his match to do anything and claimed it was the match's fault. McGonagall, tired of his complaints, gave him another match, which Malfoy still failed to convert into a needle. Neither Ron nor Harry managed to successfully change their matches, though Ron had somehow enlarged his match and caught it on fire.

"Well that went awfully," Ron complained as they made their way to History class. "I still don't understand how I made it bigger or why it caught on fire."

History was taught by a ghost with a monotone voice who didn't seem to notice that half of his students weren't paying attention. Ron was doodling while Harry was taking notes using one of his pens and notebooks, he had tried to use a quill and parchment during Transfiguration, but the result hadn't turned out well.  _ "I'm going to need more than two notebooks."  _ He thought idly.

"We've got a free period after this," Ron whispered into his ear, "wanna go explore?"

"Sure."

After free period they had lunch. Harry didn't eat as he wasn't hungry and instead used the lunch period to transcribe his Transfiguration notes into his empty notebook. Their next class was Herbology which they ended up being late for since they got lost along the way.

They shared the class with the Ravenclaws and Herbology was Harry's favorite subject by far. Their teacher was a kind stout witch called Professor Sprout who didn't deduct any point as it was the first day, but warned them not to be late again. The small boy quite liked plants and he found the class interesting. Ron, however, did not share in his enthusiasm.

Herbology was followed by Charms which they shared with the Hufflepuffs. The class was taught by a small man named Professor Flitwick. The man had squeaked and fallen off the stack of books he was standing on when he came across Harry's name while taking roll. Despite the unwanted attention Harry also enjoyed the class, though not as much as he had enjoyed Herbology.

Their last class, Defence Against the Dark Arts, was one that everyone looked forward to. However the class ended up being a huge disappointment as their teacher was a stuttering mess and the room smelled strongly of garlic. Professor Qurriel wore a purple turban that had supposedly been a gift from a prince. His stutter was so bad that Harry started to wish that subtitles were a thing in real life, not just movies. Also being in the classroom made Harry's forehead sting, but he ignored it as he figured it was because of the room's strong smell.

On their way to dinner Ron and Harry came across Neville Longbottom and Hermione Granger. The latter of which was being very loud.

"-it's just not how you do it." They heard Granger say as they approached the pair. "You were doing it wrong. You need to-"

"Hey Neville," Ron interrupted. "You still coming with us to dinner?"

Neville looked at the Slytherin duo in confusion. "Huh?"

"Remember? You said you wanted to walk to dinner with us so we could talk?" Ron's eyes flicked over to Granger who had her hands on her hips.

"Oh," Neville realised. They were trying to save him from Granger. "Yeah, yeah. Let's go."

"But I'm not done-" Granger butted in.

"We can talk later." Neville told her. "Didn't you want to go to the library anyway?"

Granger huffed, clearly annoyed, but left anyway.

The three boys walked in tense silence. Neville kept glancing nervously at Ron and Harry expecting them to attack.

"Thank you." he said breaking the silence. "For getting me away from her. I haven't been able to get away and being in the same house doesn't help." He mumbled quickly.

"No problem." Ron said resting his hands on the back on his head. "So how was your first day?"

"Fine. I quite like Herbology, I think it's my favorite. What about you?"

"Classes were okay, but if I had to pick a favorite it would be…" Ron thought for a moment, "History."

"History? Really?"

"Yeah. I mean I've always liked history. I've read my brother's old books so I already know most of what Professor Binns is teaching us. I also like it because I can doodle and not get in trouble for it." He turned to Harry. "I mean did you see McGonagall when I drew one, just one, small star. I mean it was like this small." He used his thumb and pointer finger to demonstrate the size (idk how to describe this). "Honestly I thought she was going to use my match to set my hair on fire or something.

"But what about you, Harry, what's your favorite class so far?"

"Herbology." Harry muttered looking down at the floor.

"Really?" Neville asked him excitedly.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. I like gardening, it's fun. I look after the plants back home."

"Do you have a favorite plant?"

"I really like roses. My Aunt Petunia has some that I take care of. They managed to win our neighborhood flower competition once."

"You were raised by muggles right?"

"Yes."

"Hmm… so I'm guessing your roses don't sing do they?"

"No they don't. Our flowers are just flowers, none of them sing."

"I thought so, but I don't know much about muggle plants, so I wasn't sure."

The two boys continued to talk about plants, comparing muggle ones to their magical counterpart. The two forgot that Ron was behind them, but the redhead didn't care.

Throughout the conversation Neville started to relax, no longer worrying about being attacked. 

_ "Good," _ thought Ron. _ "Now we can all be friends." _

"Harry what's that you're holding?" Neville asked a while later.

"Huh? Oh my notebook."

"A notebook?"

"Yeah I use it for note taking, since I don't know how to use a quill."

"How do you use it?"

"Well," Harry said, opening his notebook, "I just use a pen to write along these lines here. The lines are very helpful so that your letters don't go everywhere."

"That does look helpful." Neville mumbled. "Maybe I can owl order some."

"Owl order?"

"Huh? Oh yeah. I've got a catalogue that has stuff you can order by owl. All you have to do is tap the thing you want then tap a sheet of paper and write the amount of whatever you want next to the thing. Then you gotta tap the name from the catalog then the letter again to transfer it and send it."

"Can I… can I borrow your catalogue please? I need more than two notebooks."

"Sure. Ah, you can borrow it too if you want Ron." Neville's ears went pink. He couldn't believe he forgot Ron was with them.

"I'm good," Ron said. "Thanks for the offer though."

"No problem." He smiled. "Uh.. anyway I can give it to you tomorrow, Harry. Before class if you have time."

"Sounds good. Though you should probably get some pens or pencils since the ink from the quill will bleed through the pages."

Neville nodded. "Alright I'll do that, but, uh, what are they?"

"Do you mind if I explain Harry?" Ron asked eagerly.

"Go ahead."

And so Ron explained what pens and pencils were with Harry correcting or helping every once and awhile.

As they neared the Hall the trio said their goodbyes and made a promise to meet up soon.

Dinner was uneventful. Ron had a chicken salad sandwich while Harry had some soup. People still whispered and stared, but the duo ignored those people and continued to enjoy their food.

"Sorry we forgot about you." Harry said.

"Sorry?" Ron said not quite hearing Harry over the commotion in the Hall.

"Yeah, I'm sorry." Harry continued mistaking Ron's statement. "I just got too caught up talking about plants with Neville. I didn't mean to leave you out of it."

"What? Oh right. No it's fine Harry. I didn't mind, still don't. I'd you wanna talk to Neville about plants, then go ahead. I'm not going to tell you who to talk to."

"So you're not mad."

"Nope." Said Ron, popping the 'p'. "Besides, I wouldn't be a very good friend if I didn't let you have other friends."

"You think Neville would want to be my friend?" Harry whispered hopefully.

"Of course. I think he already considers himself our friend, but you can ask him if you wanna make sure."

"Ok."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You would think that during the past month I would have figured out what I'm doing with this story, but I haven't. If you have any suggestions of what you want to happen to 'spice up the story' then comment them.
> 
> Also Zoe Accrington is a character I got from the wiki. It didn't list her year so I just placed her in third year. There will be more characters in the future from the wiki placed in a random year because their year isnt listed.
> 
> So I got my brother to proof read this chapter and he's started to proof read the other chapters (1-4) and I made me realize how bad and 'cringey' my earlier chapters sound so I'm probably going to rewrite them (or the whole story) when I finish Harry's first year.  
> I'm planning to do the other books at least up till fourth year but I don't know, we'll just have to see.


	14. Class Troubles (part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not proof read, updated really late because I decided to watch three movies instead of write. Hope you like it anyways and I hope there aren't too many mistakes.

After dinner they headed back to their dorm to do homework. Harry was having an awful time trying to use a quill while Ron was, once again, doodling. Their dorm room had a small round table in the middle which Harry hadn't noticed the night before.

A while later Zabini entered their dorm.

"Hello," he nodded in greeting.

"Hey," Ron responded, still focusing on his drawing.

"I didn't see you two at dinner," Zabini said while putting his books on his bed.

"We ate earlier."

Zabini hummed. "Mind if I join you?"

"Go ahead." Ron pushed his parchment away. "I'm done anyways."

"You are?" Harry asked as he hadn't seen Ron do anything, but their History homework.

"Well for today anyway." The redhead stood and stretched. "I'm gonna go shower."

"Alright."

Ron left for the bathroom while his roommates sat in awkward silence until Zabini broke it.

"You know one of the good things that my Mother didn't mention was that the beds change to make you feel comfortable." He said leisurely.

"They do?" Harry asked.

"Yes. Though you have to lie down in them for a while so that it can change to suit you."

"Do the beds in the other houses do that?"

"I don't know."

They fell into silence again, Harry wished they had a radio or something.

_ "Do wizards even have radios?" _ He wondered idly.

"Ah hell," Harry muttered as his ink spurted over the page when he pressed too hard on his quill. He sighed, now he'd have to start over.

"Having trouble Potter? It seems as if you've never used a quill before."

"I haven't." Harry dragged his hand down his face, getting ink on his nose. "I was raised by muggles. We use pens and pencils to write."

"What is a pen-cil?"

"Oh it's um.." Harry dug through his bag. "Here." He handed Zabini a pencil who eyed it warily. "You use it to write and it's erasable."

"But where's the ink?"

"It's not ink, it's graphite which is a mineral."

Zabini marked his parchment with the pencil. "Odd," he muttered. "How do you erase it?"

"With the eraser, the pink thingy on the end."

"Muggles are so weird," Zabini said.

"Yeah, I guess so." Harry shrugged and looked back at his messed up homework. He really didn't want to rewrite it. _"I'll just do it tomorrow since it's not due till Wednesday. It's late_ _anyway."_

As the others got into bed Harry just stared at his for a moment before falling onto it. It was uncomfortable at first, but as he laid there he felt the bed shift under him until he felt comfortable. 

Some time in the middle of the night Harry woke up from a nightmare. He couldn't quite remember what it was about, except that there had been a man who only had sharp teeth and nothing else, no eyes, no nose, nothing but teeth.

Harry shivered as his bare feet touched the stone floor. He couldn't go back to sleep so he quietly slipped out of the Slytherin common room and into the dark dungeons halls. He ended up near the Black Lake, which shimmered under the moonlight.

Harry let out a sigh as he sat down on a rock and let his bare feet brush against the water. He stayed there for a while, just enjoying the stillness, before he headed back and fell into bed again.

_ "I should do this again," _ he thought as he drifted off to sleep. _ "The lake was very pretty." _

Tuesday was alright. They had Charms first thing followed by double Transfiguration. At lunch Harry and Ron met up with Neville who gave Harry his catalogue who took it meekly and then proceeded to ask Neville to be his friend. Neville was surprised at first, but he quickly agreed which left them all in a happy mood.

Herbology was after lunch again, afterwards the Slytherin duo headed to the library since they had the afternoon off.

At midnight they had Astronomy which none of the Slytherins we're happy about. All of them were grumbling sleepily except Harry who hadn't been able to fall asleep and had been contemplating going off to the lake again. Ron kept shooting him worried glances when he wasn't sleeping.

"Stars are stupid," Ron had muttered as they'd made their way back to their dorm. "Don't see why we have to be up at midnight when we could be sleeping.

Wednesday was by far the worst day. They started off with a free period, which Ron spent sleeping, happy for the extra sleep after Astronomy the night before, while his roommates finished up their homework. Then they had double Defence followed by lunch and double History. Transfiguration was their last class which left Ron in a sour mood.

"She hates me," the redhead had stated. "So what if I doodled on the backside of my homework, what does it matter. It would've been a waste of parchment if I just left it blank."

Thursday was uneventful. They only had three classes, Transfiguration, Charms, and Defence. Since they had the afternoon off Harry and Ron spent it outside near the lake with Neville. Ron ended up falling into the lake after he had lost to Neville in a shoving contest. All three of them had a good time, it was probably the first time Harry had laughed so hard it caused him to cry.

"What have we got first?" Ron asked Harry during breakfast on Friday.

"Double Potions with the Gryffindor."

"Really? Hmm. Well I heard that Professor Snape favors the Slytherins, I wonder if it's true."

"Maybe, I mean, he  _ is _ our Head of House."

"Yeah…" Ron trailed off.

"Hey Ron?"

"Yes."

"Uh, I think your brothers are staring at you."

Ron turned as he had previously been facing the wall. Percy, George, and Fred were in fact staring at him.

"Guess they're not happy I'm a Slytherin."

"Probably."

Just then the mail flew in and an owl landed in Ron's porridge.

"Errol," Ron whined as he wiped porridge off his face, "I was going to eat that." He snatched the letter the owl was presenting him. "Go on then, fly away. Get out of my food." Ron made a shooing motion, shoving the bird. Errol, in turn, bit Ron before flying off and crashing into the rafters. "Ow. Bloody owl." He muttered.

Ron scanned the envelope. "It's from my parents." He told Harry. "Percy probably told them about my sorting, that's why they're staring at me." He ripped open the envelope. "Honestly surprised I didn't get a howler." Ron scowled as he read his letter, then after he was finished he crumpled it up and dropped it into his pumpkin juice.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Harry asked cautiously.

"Not much to talk about." Ron muttered. "They're disappointed that I'm in Slytherin. Apparently I'm the first Weasley to not be a Gryffindor. Don't see why they care, it's my life not theirs." He glanced at his brothers who were still staring at him. Ron stook out his tongue at them before turning back to Harry. "They think  _ I _ decided to be in Slytherin even though it was the hat who placed me here. I asked it for Gryffindor, just because why not, but it told me no and so I asked for Slytherin. It asked me why so I explained and then it told me that 'I really do belong in Slytherin'." He scoffed.

"Trouble in paradise, Weasley?" Malfoy asked who had heard Ron's rant. "Regretting being in Slytherin or perhaps you can't handle it?"

"You wish  _ Malloy _ and like I said the hat put me here, I didn't decide he did."

"It's Malfoy, you weasel." Malfoy sneered. "I'm surprised you even lasted a week in Slytherin, I thought you'd run off with your tail between your legs."

"Of course not,  _ Maltroy _ . That's something you would do."

"It is not! And I told you it's Malfoy!"

"Sure thing, Malfoon." Ron rolled his eyes. "Let's get going Harry. We don't want to be late for potions, apparently Professor Snape's very strict."

And so the two boys left the Hall and headed towards the Potions room where they were greeted by Neville.

"Hey guys." Neville waved. "How're you doing."

"We're good. How bout you Nev, you're a bit early?" Ron asked.

"Ah yeah, I've been here for a while. I didn't want to be late. Some of the older years were saying that Professor Snape doesn't like Gryffindors."

"Yeah, he's our Head of House, according to Ron he's also very strict and favors the Slytherins." Harry told him.

"Well that does make sense, if he is your Head of House." Neville agreed.

The classroom door opened and the three filled inside, Ron and Harry sharing a desk while Neville sat at the desk on Harry's right.

The classroom started to fill up, Gryffindors on the right, Slytherins on the left. Professor Snape started off with roll and paused at Harry's name.

"Ah yes, " he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new… celebrity."

Malfoy and his friends sniggered, though Harry didn't know what they found funny. Was it his name or the way that Snape paused at least ten times while addressing him?

Snape finished taking roll, mispronouncing Ron's name when he came across it. Ron just rolled his eyes, it was obvious the man was doing it on purpose.

He then spoke, his voice almost a whisper, capturing everyone's attention. He gave a speech about how he could teach them to 'bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death' if they weren't a bunch of 'dunderheads' he usually has to teach. Despite being insulted Harry found himself quite excited, brewing potions would probably be easier than casting spells.

"Potter!" Snape snapped suddenly, causing said boy to jump. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

It took Harry a moment to process what the man said. He glanced at Ron, but his friend just looked confused while Granger was waving her hand around in the air.

"Ah.. some sort of potion sir." Harry couldn't remember the name and being the center of attention didn't help.

"Tut… tut… clearly fame isn't everything."

_ "What's fame got to do with anything?" _ Harry wondered.

"Let's try again," he said, ignoring Granger, "where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Harry knew bezoars were found in a goat's stomach, but where would he get a goat?

"Do you have a goat, sir?" Harry asked timidly.

"No, I do not have a goat. Answer the question."

"In an apothecary, sir."

"Wrong."

"But sir," Harry started, "you asked me where I would get you a bezoar, which is found in a goat's stomach, and you said you didn't have a goat. So you would get one from an apothecary." Harry stumbled over his words.

The man sneered, "Last question. What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"There is none, they're the same plant." Harry answered immediately. He really liked plants. "It's also known as aconite."

The man sneered and turned to Granger who had risen out of her seat, waving her hand around wildly. "Sit down," Snape barked.

"For your information asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion known as the Draught of the Living Dead. A bezoar is found in a goat's stomach and can save you from most poisons. Well? Why aren't you copying this down?"

It was safe to say that Harry was not enjoying Potions. Snape made it extremely hard to concentrate seeing as he was sweeping around criticizing everyone except Malfoy. He was in the middle of praising him when Finnigan and Neville's cauldron melted, covering Neville in green goop.

"Idiot boy!" Snape snarled, vanishing the mess with a flick of his wand. He turned to Finnigan, "Take him to the infirmary."

He turned to Harry. "Potter!" He yelled causing Harry to flinch. "Why didn't you tell him to not add the quills? Thought it'd make you look good did you? That's a point from Gryffindor you've lost now."

Harry just started at the man and thought, " _ 1\. Neville is my friend, I don't want him to get hurt, 2. I'm trying to make my potion, Neville's partner is more responsible than I am, and 3. I'm not even in Gryffindor. What did I do wrong, why does he hate me?" _

"He's not even in our house," one of the Gryffindors protested.

"What do you mean?" Snape snapped. "Of course he is."

"No he's a Slytherin," a Gryffindor girl said.

Snape turned to Harry and glanced at his tie, frowning, he spoke again. "Class will continue without further interruptions or I will be taking points." He walked back over to Malfoy probably to praise him.

Harry was confused. Why did the man think he was a Gryffindor, had he forgotten their interaction on Monday? He turned to Ron, who just shrugged and went back to stirring the potion.

"He took a point from Gryffindor, really?" Neville asked after Ron and Harry had finished explaining. They had just come from charms and were in the infirmary hanging out with Neville since it was lunch.

"Yeah, I don't know why, I mean he gave me my schedule on Monday, and surely he's seen me sit with the Slytherins."

"It's probably because your parents were Gryffindors," Ron said, swinging his legs from where he sat on Neville's bed. "I mean basically everyone thought you would be in Gryffindor. I'm honestly surprised there hasn't been an article in the Prophet about how you've 'defected to the darkside'."

"Do you think that?" Harry asked.

"What? That you've defected to the 'darkside'? Nah. I don't think you could hurt a fly. No offense."

"None taken," Harry smiled, though his thought strayed to the man he had killed earlier in the year.  _ "Did anyone ever find him." _ He wondered before shaking his head to clear his thoughts. Now was not the time to be think of dead men in bushes.

They ended up spending all of lunch with Neville. Then they rushed off to herbology barely making it in time. It was a double period which made Harry forget about how awful Potions had gone.

Later that night Harry was sitting by the lake with Ron. He had tried to get Ron to go back to sleep, but the tall boy wouldn't let him leave the dorm without him.

"You were right," Ron said softly, gazing at the lake, "it's beautiful."

"Yeah, I know." Harry told him. "We should invite Neville sometime."

"Yeah we should."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did Zabini know Harry slept on the floor? Maybe, probably. I mean if he didn't he does after he talked to Harry.
> 
> I got lazy during potions, I didn't want to write Snape's speech. You all know it.
> 
> Why does Snape forget Harry's in his house. In my mind he's like Sherlock from BBC's Sherlock who forgets stuff that he doesn't find important so he just kinda forgot Harry was a Slytherin and assumed he was a Gryffindor.
> 
> I need sleep. Goodbye.


	15. Not a Chapter

Ok so I'm aware I didn't update on Monday (already breaking my schedule) BUT I have decided to rewrite this work. I won't be updating untill I have it all rewritten (I'll be adding a new chapter(s) also when I do update.)

I'm aware I just came off break and I'm sorry for making you all wait more, but I can't seem to bring my self to continue knowing how bad by older chapters are. (Also I have a terrible habit of procrastinating and since I'm not being graded on this I'm having trouble just writing.)

I will also rewrite my other work to make it make more sense. (Which I have decided to make a HarryxSnape fic).

I'm going to work out the plots since I'm just kinda thinking theses chapters up in the fly.

I don't know when I'm updating hopefully it'll be sometime this year, but I make no promises.

...okay I make one promise... I won't abandon this fic! The other one... maybe.

... I hope you can forgive me...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I do upload the new and improved version it will be another work possibly under a new name. Then I will ¿delete? this one (idk yet as I'm still fairly new to Ao3)


	16. Chapter Nine: Weekend Mischief and Quidditch Qualms (part one)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back.  
> Plan to update on Mondays, second part of this chapter might be up earlier.

The next morning after breakfast Ron and Harry were approached by George and Fred.

“Hey little firsties wait up!” called George as the twins ran down the corridor after the duo.

“We-” panted Fred, leaning on George, “we need to talk to you.”

“About the letter-” George cut in, also leaning on Fred.

“Yeah, about the letter,” continued Fred. “Listen, we tried to stop Perce from telling.”

“We thought it would be better if you told them first-”

“But then you didn’t and so Perce sent a letter instead.”

“We were able to convince Mum not to send a howler-” (g)

“But she made us promise to talk to you.”

“Is that why you're here then,” asked Ron before they could continue, “to tell me how disappointed everyone is?” He crossed his arms over his chest, “Because I know that already, I read the letter.”

“You've got it all wrong, Ronnikins,” the twins smiled.

“You see,” George broke off, “we don’t actually care what house you're in.”

“Yeah, we didn’t come here to talk about your apparent snakiness.”

“I mean, why would we criticizes you for being in the house that-”

“We were almost in?” Fred finished.

Ron gapped at them. “You- you two were almost in Slytherin too?”

“Yep!” The two chorused.

“The hat liked our ambition.” George said.

“Well, they admired your cunning more so dear brother.” (f)

“True, they also liked our resourcefulness if I recall correctly- more so yours than mine.” (g)

“Yes, that’s right, I almost forgot.”Fred nodded, “Thank you Gred.”

“No problem Forge-”

“Guys, sorry to interrupt whatever this is, but what is it you needed? You said we needed to talk” Ron interrupted quickly before either of them could continue.

“Oh right. The letter.” Fred said, snapping his attention back to Ron and Harry.

“Yeah, the letter.” George nodded, “So Percy wanted to write to Mum and Dad right away, but we convinced him to wait until the end of the week-”

“To give you a chance to tell them first.”

“But then you didn’t so Percy went ahead and wrote to Mum. Before Errol could fly off we gave him our own letter. Basically we told Mum if she didn’t send a howler than we would talk to you.”

“Of course she was a bit suspicious-” Fred shrugged.

“But we told her we were trying to be better role models-, can’t remember the exact wording, but that was the gist of it.”

“So she agreed.” Fred went on before George got sidetracked.

“We never actually told her what we would be talking to you about though.”

“Guess she thinks we’ll talk about the letter.”

“Is that not what we're talking about though?” asked Ron.

“Not really, I mean yeah we did, but you needed context.” George told him.

“What for?”

“Well for what we're about to ask you.” George said vaguely.

“Which is?” Ron urged. It was the weekend he wanted to relax in the warmth of the common room, not stand in this drafty corridor.

“Well you see we need your assistance.” Fred said.

“With a prank.”

“Or pranks.”

“We’ve got some we've been meaning to try out, ‘cept we haven't the foggiest who to try them on. We were hoping you could… recommend us someone.” George finished.

“What type of pranks?” Asked Harry quietly, speaking for the first time since the twins had approached them. He’d been sitting on a window ledge silently listening to the Weasleys conversation.

“Nothing too bad.” George explained, a bit surprised having forgotten Harry was there. “We’re prankers not bullies.”

“We do what we do for laughs, not to scar anyone.” Fred went on.

“Embarrass them, yeah, but never to ruin anyone's lives, nothing permanent.”

“We have a lot to live up to after all. We want to be the best prankers Hogwarts has ever had the pleasure of housing.”

“Currently that title belongs to the Marauders.”

“But not for long!”

“Who’re the Marauders?” Harry asked.

“Who the-” George spluttered. “Why they’re the best prankers ever!”

“Besides us of course.”

“Of course. The Marauders were like the king of pranks, they’re our idols.”

“We want to be just like them.”

“Or as close as we can be, seeing as not as much is known about them and most of the teachers won’t tell us much, but they seem like good guys.”

“At least we hope they are.” Fred frowned slightly. “Anyway, you got anyone who needs a good pranking?”

“Well there is someone.” Ron said hesitantly, “well two people actually.”

“Ohh, well do tell, Ronnikins, who is it?” The twins asked, wearing matching cheshire cat grins.

Ron smiled too. “Draco Malfoy and Grant Sparkford, our fifth year prefect.”

* * *

Ron and Harry don’t actually see the effect of the twins’ pranks until lunch. Malfoy’s hair has turned a wonderful neon rainbow colour, while the prefect, Sparkford, who had insulted Ron on the first day, was sporting a large pair of buck teeth and seemed to be having trouble speaking and lifting his head.

Ron let out a snort. “They actually did it.” He told Harry as they walked over to the table. “I wonder how long they've been like this.”

They ate peacefully, or as peacefully as they could with Draco Malfoy at the table. The staring and whispering had died down, apparently everyone deemed Harry too boring to pay attention to. Harry for one was glad that it was over, he didn’t really get why anyone would want to stare at him anyway.

Ron groaned, “Ugh, we should probably do homework shouldn't we?”

“I.. I guess?” Harry said. “I mean better now so we don’t have to worry about it later, right? We could always do it later if you don’t want to right now.”

“We better do it now.” Ron said, getting up from the table, “like you said we better now.”

“We don’t have to,” Harry said, standing up quickly.

“Yeah I know but it's the responsible thing to do or whatever.” Ron glanced over to the Gryffindors table where Neville sat a little ways off from the other first years. “Maybe we should ask Nev to join us, we could all go to the library.”

Neville agreed and soon the trio found themselves in the library. They did their homework or most of it anyways as they got sidetracked. Ron had started talking about wizards chess and before long he’d rushed off to get his set from the dorm.

Ron was the best at the game by a long shot. Neville, they found, was pretty bad at it, but Harry who just didn’t get the game was the worst. Both Ron and Neville had to reassure him that it was okay.

“So what if chess isn't your thing,” Ron had told him, “You’re good at other things- like plants you know way more about that then I ever will. You enjoy plants and I enjoy chess. Besides it would be boring if we were all good at the same things.” He offered no further explanation on what he meant and then proceeded to try to teach Harry more about wizards chess. It was more Ron telling the chess pieces to be nice than him actually teaching, but Harry enjoyed it nevertheless.

On Sunday the trio visited Hagrid, he had invited Harry for tea, wanting to know how his first week had gone.

“So you three have been enjoying yer classes?” Hadrid asked a little stiffly while serving them tea.

“Yeah they're going well,” Ron told the man. “‘Cept we get the feeling Professor Snape doesn't like us.” He said not looking up from petting Fang, Hagrid’s dog, whose head was resting on Ron’s leg.

“That’s just how he is, it’s nothing ter worry about.”

Ron shrugged, “Eh, but he seems to really hate Harry, I mean like really hate him.”

“Rubbish.” Hagrid handed them their cups of tea- which were the size of soup bowls- before offering them some hard rock-like cakes called Cauldron Cakes. “Got any favorite classes?”

“I enjoy Herbology,” Neville said a bit timidly, “so- so does Harry though.”

“Eh, really now?” Hagird asked, glancing at Harry who offered a rapid nod.

“Yeah, I like plants. Aunt Petunia has a lot of roses, they won our neighborhood competition once.” Harry said quickly.

Hagrid nodded thoughtfully. “What about you Ron, what’s yer favorite?”

“History.” The redhead said, glancing up at Hagrid and grabbing a napkin to wipe off Fang’s slobber from his robes.

Hagrid looked surprised, but didn’t inquire further; he took a sip of his tea instead. “How’s yer brother Charlie, he still working with dragons?”

As Ron and Hadgrid talked about Charlie and dragons, Harry spotted a newspaper clipping, which talked about a break in at Gringotts. Someone had broken into a vault on the same day as Harry’s birthday, the vault which was broken into was apparently emptied earlier the same day.

Harry wanted to ask Hagird about it but he thought it was best not to, instead he slipped the paper into his pocket, the action causing his watch to get caught on his robe. Harry paused for a moment to start at the watch, it didn’t seem to be working anymore.

“...Harry?” Ron asked.

Harry glanced up, “Sorry, what was that, I didn’t hear you.”

“I asked if your hand was okay, you were staring at it.”

“Huh, oh right, my hand’s fine. I was just looking at my watch.” Harry said quickly, “It’s not working anymore, I guess it needs more batteries, which I guess makes sense since it's a used watch, not a new one. Sorry.” The watch was John Darkwood’s, but they didn’t need to know that.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

* * *

“Hey Harry, looks like we have Flying lessons, Thursday with the lions.” Ron remarked Monday morning looking at the notice board. “Looks like we’ll no longer have the afternoon off.”

“Isn’t it bad to fly right after eating though, what if someone pukes or something.”

“Nah, we go free period right after lunch then flying. So I doubt that’ll be a problem. Hopefully.” He grimaced.

“Hopefully.” Harry agreed.

Thursdays came faster than Harry had hoped. Harry was dredging flying class, he’d never ridden a broom in his life, what if he fell off, or everyone laughed at him, or just looked at him in general.

Ron, on the other hand was ecstatic, he couldn’t wait to fly and kept giving Harry advice which Harry thought was supposed to make him less nervous but in the end had the opposite effect. Neville shared Harry’s nervousness as did Granger who they often found hanging around Neville when they went to find him.

* * *

Flying class started off normal, Madam Hooch, their flying instructor, made them find a broom and make it fly into their hands. Harry was among the first to succeed, his broom hit his hand with such force that it made him stumble backwards. Then Hooch told them to mount their brooms and went around correcting everyone's grip. After that everything went to sh*t.

Everyone was told to wait until the whistle to kick off, but Neville got nervous and kicked off earlier and harder than he should have. Madam Hooch kept on yelling at him to come back instead of going after him, which Harry was stupid on her part since Neville obviously wasn’t in controll of his broom. Neville kept on going higher and going all over the place until he fell and broke his wrist.

Madam Hooch, at this point rushed over to him and took him to the infirmary, warning everyone to stay on the ground or they’d be expelled faster than they could say “Quidditch.” Why Madam Hooch thought it was a good idea to leave a group of 11 year olds who hated each other alone Harry had no idea, however he knew it wouldn’t end well.

“What’s this,” asked Draco, treading over the grass and picking a shiny sphere, “Looks like Longbottom lost his new toy.” Harry recognized the object now, it was the remembrall Neville’s gran had sent him.

“Give it here Malfoy,” Ron said, approaching the blond and sticking his hand out. “That’s not yours.”

“It’s not yours either,” Malfoy said, drawing the remembrall to his chest, “Why should I give it to you?”

“Because I’m going to give it back to Neville- unlike you- because he’s my friend.”

Malfoy sneered and mounted his broom, “If you want it so bad Weasley come and get it,” he said as he kicked off into the air.

“Malfoy, you’re going to get us all in trouble,” Ron hollered up at him, “Get down before you lose us house points!”

“And here I thought you were a weasel,” Malfoy called, “turns out you're just a chicken.”

Ron bristled, “Why do you even want it Maltron. Don’t you have enough money to buy yourself one? Or was that just a lie.”

“I’ll have you know, you blood traitor-”

While the two bickered Harry silently slipped from the group of first years and mounted his broom. Was he being pretty reckless? Yes. Was he going to do it anyways? Of course. No way was he going to let Malfoy float around while he insulted Ron and took Neville’s remembrall. He just got friends he wasn’t about to let anything happen to them.

He rose quietly and almost reached Malfoy unstopped until Granger saw him and yelled, “Not you too! Get down from there, the both of you, Madam Hooch told us not to leave the ground!”

Malfoy then proceeded to throw the remembrall, “Good luck getting that now Potter!” He called as he floated off towards the ground.

Harry on the other hand barely heard him as he shot off after the small sphere. He was so focused on catching it that he didn't notice he was in a dive before it was almost too late, luckily he pulled out of it just in time so his shoes only grazed the grass.

Ron came running after him, some of the other first years tagging after him, “Harry! Are you okay? That was insane. Why did you-” Ron cut himself off pulling Harry into a hug. Harry stood stiffy, face pressed awkwardly to Ron’s chest.

“Sorry,” Harry muttered, “I didn’t mean- I’m sorry.” Ron pulled back and grabbed him by the shoulders scanning for injuries. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. It’s just it's Nev and I couldn't- I couldn't-” Harry rushed on, voice cracking.

“No, no, no,” Ron said. “It’s fine harry really, you just worried me a bit. I’m just glad you’re not hurt. You're not hurt are you?” Harry shook his head. “Good. Merlin, Harry, that dive that was amazing, I thought you said you've never ridden a broom before. That stunt you just pulled off most professionals takes years to master.”

Harry didn’t get a chance to respond and Professor McGonagall came storming across the field and over to them. “In all my year” She was saying, “Never have I seen someone act so reckless before. Mr. Potter come with me-”

“But Professor” Ron tried to interject, moving in front of Harry, “It wasn’t his-”

“That's enough Mr. Weasly. Mr. Potter with me.”

“But-”

“Now.” She snapped and then walked off.

Harry grabbed Ron’s sleeve. “It’s okay, I’ll be fine, you don’t have to worry. Can you give this back to Nev for me please?” He held out the remembrall.

“Keep it for now, you can give it back to him yourself. No way am I letting them expel you, I’ll fight Dumbledore if I have to.” Ron smiled grimly.

“Mr. Potter!” Mcgonagall called, she was getting annoyed Harry could tell, so he rushed off after her sticking the remembrall in his robe pocket. He hoped he wouldn't get expelled, he didn’t want to get sent back to the Dursleys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had my brother proof read this so any mistakes are his fault (not really though.) Again as always: questions, concerns anything really I'll do my best to answer them. See you soon.
> 
> The prefect is an actual HP character just grabbed him from the wiki. No idea if he's actually a prefect but there's not a lot of info on Slytherin students so... eh.


	17. Chapter Nine: (part two)

Harry followed silently after McGonagall as they walked through the halls and into the dungeons. He wanted to say something- anything really- but he was pretty sure nothing he said would keep him from getting expelled.

Harry, lost in his head, didn't notice that the professor had stopped in front of a door and therefore ran into her.

“Sorry, sorry Professor,” he mumbled.

“Just mind where you're going.” The professor responded as she knocked on the door. The person inside told them to enter and she opened the door revealing a medium sized office with a desk that Snape sat at.

“Ah, Minerva,” said Snape only noticing his coworker, “to what do I owe this... pleasure?”

“I am here because of what one of your students did.” McGonagall responded as she entered further into the room, leaving Harry to trail behind her. “Something completely reckless.” She said as she looked back at Harry with pursed lips.

“Mr. Potter,” Snape said, staring at Harry as he shrunk in on himself. “What have you done this time?”

“He flew his broom without permission and attempted to do an incredibly dangerous and foolish move.”

“Of course he did. Potter may I remind you that first years are _not_ allowed brooms for a reason, you are not an exception to this rule, no matter how important you think yourself to be.” Snape turned to McGonagall, “What stunt did he try to pull.”

“An incredibly dangerous dive.” McGanagall told him, “Barely managed to pull up in time.” She turned back to Harry, “Mr. Potter, a move like that could have ended you in the hospital wing. I don’t know what you were thinking.” She shook her head in disappointment.

“Obviously Mr. Potter here thought himself special, he wanted the attention of course, just like his father, an arrogant bigot.”

“It’s not like that,” Harry protested weakly, looking down at his shoes.

“Oh?” Snape said as he stood from his desk and walked over to Harry. “Then tell me, Mr. Potter, what is it like, because to me it sounds like you're making excuses for your irresponsible actions. To me it seems that you attempted to show off to your peers and got caught.” He sneered as he loomed over Harry.

“I was- I was,” Harry struggled, he couldn't think clearly with Snape standing so close to him, he didn't want to be here. He didn't want to be here. He took a strangled breath. “I was just- I,” Harry felt his throat closing up and his eyes start to water. He took another breath trying to will away the tears, he opened his mouth but the lump in his throat kept him from talking.

“As I thought. Even given the chance you cannot deny your actions.” Sanpe said, “I suppose we should be grateful we won’t have to hear whatever poor excuse you were going to offer. I believe expulsion is in order.” He said, walking back over to his desk and sitting back down. “I suggest you go and pack your bags, Mr. Potter, and enjoy the rest of your day, seeing as it will be your last here.”

McGonagall walked back over to the door, “With me, Mr. Potter.”

 _“I'm getting expelled,”_ Harry realized as he stood panicking, _“I’m expelled, no, no, no, I can’t go back, not yet, please.”_

 _“Don’t worry,”_ a small voice told him, the same form the bank, the one from before the sorting. _“I’ll help you, Harry, if you let me. Let me.”_

 _“Help, please!”_ Harry responded without much thought.

Harry could almost hear the voice smirk, _“As you wish,"_ it said.

* * *

Harry had shouted at them, he hadn’t done it on purpose, one minute he was asking for help then the next he was blurinting out that he did it for Neville. The two professors had looked at him surprised by his sudden outburst then Harry was explaining what was happening, except he wasn’t really controlling what he was saying. It was like he was just lending his voice to someone as they explained what happened, he just stood there as his mouth moved, then his arm moved and pulled out Neville's remembrall. “-so then Malfoy through Neville’s remembrall and w- I went after it, I didn’t notice I was in a dive. I didn’t want to disobey Madam Hooch but Malfoy wasn’t cooperating, my plan was just to grab it while he was distracted but he noticed me and threw it instead.”

Harry wasn’t even aware he knew some of the words he said, it felt weird, _he_ felt weird, like a puppet. Was this the voice’s doing? Magic was real, maybe this was some magic thing. The voice had first appeared at the bank, that was the first magical place he had gone to (if he didn’t count the Leaky Cauldron), and then here at Hogwarts. Maybe that's why he'd never heard it before, maybe he needed to be in a place with magic.

 _“We’ll talk later, kid.”_ The voice broke Harry from his thoughts, _“Not much good my help’ll do if you don’t pay attention.”_

“So you’re saying, Mr, Potter,” McGonagall said, “that you mounted your broom, not to show off but to retrieve Mr. Longbottom’s remembrall?”

“Ye- yes. Yes I did,” Harry stumbled as the voice sunk back into his subconscious, _“I should probably give it a name.”_ He thought distractedly.

“Mmm, and do you have any proof?” Snape asked.

“Uh, witnesses- uh, people saw me and- and Malfoy.”

“Well I suppose we should go ask them then,” McGonagall said, walking back towards the door as she had moved to sit in one of the chairs in front of Snape's desk. “Let’s go.”

* * *

And so everyone in Harry’s flying class was asked what really happened by their respective head of house. No one's story was exactly the same. The lions said Malfoy was the one who stole Neville's remembrall while the snakes, except Ron, all said it was a Gryffindor who did it.

“Well it is clear that no one here can offer the true culprit,” Snape said, addressing the first years, “it seems none of you dunderheads know what really happened,” he turned to Harry who was standing next to Ron. “Mr. Potter, you will be serving detention with me this weekend. You’ll get an owl tomorrow telling you what time you are to report to my office. I will also be taking points, 35 to be exact.” All the Slytherin let out a collective groan, “I suggest you quiet down unless you wish me to take more points.” He turned to McGonagall, “Is there anything to wish to add, or are we done here?” Snape asked.

“No I think that is all, everyone is to head straight to their common room, you’ve all caused enough trouble for today.”

* * *

“Good going Potter,” Parkinson spat, once they had all entered the common room, “were no longer in the lead because of you.”

“Hey,” Ron objected, “if anyone’s to blame it’s Malfoy, none of this would've happened if it weren't for him.”

“Not true,” Malfoy drawled, “I don't know if you noticed Weasley but I wasn’t the one who lost us points. It was ‘Saint Potter’ over there,” He glared at Harry along with the other first years.

“Yeah Potter,” Parkinson whined, “you couldn't let us have any fun could you, you think yourself so important, don't you.” she scoffed, “Well your not, all you've done is tarnish the name of the Slyhtrein, you and your blood-traitor friends.”

“Sod off Parkinson,” Ron said as he turned to Harry, “C’mon mate let go back to our dorm.”

Malfoy sneered at the two as they passed him, “I should have expected no less, Father always said the Weaslys were an insult to our kind, but he never mentioned how cowardly they were.” Malfoy paused waiting for Ron to say something. “Really nothing to say, well I guess this just proves my point. You, Ronald WEasly, it seems will never amount to anythi-”

Ron lunged at the blond punching him in the nose, “F*ck off, I’ll be something, I _am_ something,” Ron said, grabbing the shorter boy by his collar, “but you, what will _you_ be, huh? You have nothing to you but your father's name. “My father this,’ ‘My father that,’ get a life.” He shoved Malfoy away, “You are nothing but a- a bloody bully.”

Ron stormed off leaving everyone in stunned silence, no one had expected Ron to jump Malfoy and give him a bloody nose. Malfoy was literally a bloody bully, Harry found it kind of amusing, but he had other things to worry about. He slipped out of the common room and up the stairs to his dorm where he found Ron sitting on his bed hugging his knees.

“Oh, hey Harry.” Ron croaked. “How are you, you okay?”

“Yeah I’m good,” Harry paused, why was Ron asking him, if anything he should be the one asking the question. “How… about you? I mean are you... okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. I’m fine.” He let out a wet laugh, “Sorry. Sorry I don’t know why this is affecting me so much.”

“No it’s fine,” Harry reassured, “Malfoy’s just like you said a bully- a bloody bully.” Harry gave a small smile, “That's what bullies do.” 

Ron gave a weak laugh which quickly died, “But I still punched him, I’m no better than him.” He hugged his legs closer and squeezed his eyes shut as he let out a shaky breath.

“But you are better than him.” Harry said, “Sure you punched him, but he deserved it. I mean maybe you shouldn’t have, but you did and ah-” Harry was rambling he had no idea what he was saying. “Just don’t do it again, yeah? I mean it was a one time thing.”

“Yeah but Harry, I still did it. I still punched him, what's to say I wont again?”

“Because you better them him, I-” Harry hesitated for a moment, “we haven't known each other for that long but I know you, you wouldn’t do that.”

“Thanks Harry,” Ron smiled weakly, “ I- uh- sorry about earlier, I mean the hug, it just kinda happened.” He shrugged, “My whole family are huggers- even Percy really. So, sorry if I made you eh,” He gestured oddly with his arms, “you know, uncomfortable or uh- yeah.”

“No it’s fine, really.” Harry said, going over to his own bed and sitting down, “I kinda didn’t notice it- the hug, but um- it was nice, I think,” Harry trailed off as he thought for a moment. “I mean I don’t think i’ve ever had a hug before so I don't actually know how they're supposed to feel, but yours was nice.”

“You've never had a hug before?”

“I don't think so, maybe I have, but I can’t remember.”

“Oh Harry,” Ron said sadly, “That’s not, no that's not okay, why-” Ron struggled for the right words, “I can give you shug- a proper hug this time- but only if you want, so you can see what it feels like.”

“Yeah okay.” Harry told him softly as they both stood up.

Ron enveloped the smaller boy in a hug and the two stood there awkwardly for a moment until Harry wrapped his arms around Ron’s middle. It was nice, Harry realised, really nice actually, but he pulled away after a moment because he felt as if he was getting squashed.

“Sorry,” said Ron pulling back, his face slightly red, "That was stupid, sorry.”

“No it was nice it was just… too much, I mean I’m not used to it so it's like trying to swim without lessons. If you get what I mean.”

“Yeah, yeah I get ya,” The both stood in semi-awkward silence. “Hey want to go by the lake tonight? I’m not really good at this whole ‘feelings’ thing, but the lake is nice.”

“Yeah lets do it.” They smiled at each other as previous awkwardness vanished. Today had been a struggle for the both of them, the lake was exactly what they needed after today, that and a good dinner.

* * *

“Crap, where are we?”

“I don’t know, I think we went the wrong way.”

“I can’t see anything -oof!”

“Ron!” Harry whisper-shouted, “Are you okay?”

“I’m good Harry,” Ron responded, “I just tripped over something.”

“Guys?” A new voice asked.

“Neville?” The two snakes exclaimed before shushing each other.

“What are you doing here mate?” Ron asked him, standing up and offering his friend a hand.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Neville said, taking Ron’s hand and allowing the other boy to help him up.

“We were heading to the lake.” Ron told him.

“But we got lost,” Harry said. Glancing around to make sure no one had heard them.

“Yep we got lost, but what about you Nev, you also heading to the lake,” Ron teased.

“What? Oh, uh, no I forgot the password for the common room and I can’t get in.”

“And you were planning to just-” Ron gestured to the ground, “-sleep out here?”

“Yeah, basically.” Neville clutched his arms nervously. “So how’d you end up here if you're trying to get to the lake?” He asked lightly.

“I don't know mate, it's a magic castle.” Ron shrugged, “There are doors that are walls and walls that are doors, the stairs move. I’m just glad we didn’t end up on the roof or something.”

“I don’t think that's possible,” Harry countered, “but Nev since we're heading to the lake want to come with us? I mean you don’t have to but we’ve been meaning to ask you anyways.”

“I'd love to but are you sure we should be doing this? What if we get caught?” 

“Nah don’t worry about it,” Ron told him slinging an arm around the boy’s shoulders, “We've done this plenty of times before.”

“Two times actually,” Harry smiled, “we've only done this two times. Well, Ron only once but we haven't been caught yet.”

“Okay then,” Neville said, bringing up his courage, “let's do it.”

* * *

There were no clouds that night, Harry noted as he glanced up from where he and his friends were sitting on a rock. 

“Hey look,” Neville said from where he sat next to Harry, pointing out at something in the lake. 

“What." Asked Ron, leaning forward as he struggled to see from his perch at the top of the rock, “What is it?”

“Those flowers,” Neville pointed again. “Those are moon drops.”

Harry squinted at the lake for a while before he spotted them, “Oh I see them, they kind of look like lilles.”

“Ah yep, I see them too, what about them Nev?” Ron added.

“Well those are moon drops or one type of them anyway. They're quite an interesting plant really,” Neville went on excitedly. “Those only come out when it's a waning gibbous, their flowers are poisonous but their stems and leaves are used in hair potions. These only come out in lakes and swamps which is why they are good for hair.”

“Are there other types of moon drops then?” Harry asked, eager to learn more about the plant.

“Yep there are some that can be harvested in winter, they've got a certain name but most people just call them Milkies.”

“Why?” Ron asked. “That sounds like a stupid name.”

“Well there's actually a really good reason, two really. You see they’re around all year but they are like an orange color if it isn't winter. They only turn milk white after the first snow of winter, but only if it happens at night. So that means they'll stay orange if the first snow is during the day which makes them pretty rare. But they are also called Milkies because they attract young animals. They use some scent to replicate that of a mother animal then when the young is close enough the flower swallows it whole.”

Harry made a face, “Really?”

Neville nodded, “That's how they get their nutrients. Some say the reason the flowers are onage is because of the blood but it hasn't been proven so,” he shrugged before continuing on.“They’re used in sleeping potions, and they’re not poisonous for animals unlike the ones in the lake.”

“Huh,” Harry contemplated, “So if an animal whose had its child eaten by the flower then eats that same flower is that cannibalism?”

“I,” Neville paused, “I don’t think so?”

“You two are such dorks,” Ron teased. “Why do you guys like plants so much anyways?”

“‘Cause they're interesting,” Nevile defended, staring up at Ron.

“Mmm,” Ron waved his hand in a so-so motion, “not really. I can think of several more interesting things than plants.”

“Like what?” Neville challenged.

“Quidditch,” Ron answered immediately, “chess, food, drawing, pranks.” He continued listing off using his fingers.

“And why do you like flying so much anyway?” Neville asked using Ron’s previous question against him, crossing his arms as he tried and failed to hide his smile.

“It’s fun,” Ron shrugged, also smiling, “I mean I'm sure you would be great at it too if you tried.”

Neville shook his head lightly, “Yeah I guess, but I've got no reason to fly, there are no plants in the sky, there are some on top of mountains but I don't need a broom for that.”

“What about plants from different plants,” Harry piped in.

Neville stared at him quizzingly, “What do you mean Harry?”

“I mean, like, are there any magical plants from like Neptune or something that can be used in potions or whatever.”

“You mean like the planet?” Ron asked.

“Yeah I mean mugges have been to space-” 

“Wait muggles have been to space?!” Ron interrupted standing up and almost falling off the rock, “What when?”

“Yeah, there was the space race back in 19-omething, US against the Russians or was it the Chinese,” He muttered under his breath. “No, I think it _was_ the Russians. It doesn't matter, anyway so they had a race to see who could get to the moon first. The US won, and then that one guy said: ‘ _That's one small step for man one giant leap for mankind.’_ ” The two just stared at him, “You really never heard of this, haven't wizards been to the moon too?”

“Not that I know of,” Ron said. “If wizards have been to the.. moon, it isn’t in any of the history books I've ever read.”

“Wow.” Harry said for a lack of better words, he couldn't believe wizard kind had never been in space.

“Are you sure of this Harry?” Ron asked, “I mean this isn’t something you just heard right? Is there proof?”

“I mean yeah, I guess” Harry shrugged, “I mean we learned about it at school so.” He shrugged again not really sure what to say.

“Wow,” Ron breathed. “Thats wow. The moon, muggles on the moon. Merlin if my dad knew about this!” He laughed. “But how did they get there? The moon doesn't seem like it's ehh,” Ron gestured up and down with his arms. “It seems more like wehh,” He made another gesture with his arms this time looking like he was hugging a beach ball. “You know?”

“Umm.” Harry didn’t really know what Ron was trying but it seemed like Neville did.

“You mean it seems more like a piece of parchment than a ball?” Neville asked.

“Yes exactly! Like huh?” Ron exclaimed, “I just don’t- what else do you know about this Harry?”

“Uh, not much,” Harry scratched the back of his neck turning to face Ron fully, “I mean you need a rocket to get to space, and the gravity there is different. You would also need a space suit since the oxygen level is also different.”

“Right, right of course,” Ron nodded but it was clear he didn't really know what Harry was talking about. “I've decided I want to be the first wizard in space!” He proclaimed thrusting one arm up at the moon and putting the other on his hip. Then plopped back down on the rock again. “Of course you two come with me and you can look for space plants or whatever you want. We could live there. Oh that would be so bloody cool.”

“You know we wouldn't be able to be up there long, right?” Harry asked. “We would need oxygen and I actually don’t know much we could take with us.”

“You know Harry you keep saying that but I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Oxygen is in the air, it's what allows us to breathe, if we went up to space without it or space suits we wouldn't be able to breathe.” Ron still didn't seem to be getting it, so Harry went on. “Think of it as trying to breath under water but without magic. It’s not possible to breath up in space our lungs would-well they would explode I think.”

“Lungs can do that?” Ron made a face, “Yeah, I don’t think I want to go to space anymore.”

“Ron, you could still go to space,” Neville said, “It’s just like Harry said; you just need the right stuff, and if you don't, who will?”

“Yeah and,” Harry added, “wizards have magic, we can do things that muggles would never be able to do. I’m sure there are spells or potions that we could use.”

“Harry’s got a point,” Nevvile agreed, “if you want to go to the moon then lets do it.”

Ron let out a laugh, “Let's do it! No one can stop us, not even Snape!”

* * *

The trio of friends walked as silently as they could back to the Slytherin dorms. They had debated what to do about Neville’s situation and after much debating they decided he would spend the night in their dorm. Of course this idea came with concerns since Neville wasn't supposed to enter their common room let alone their dorm, but they figured if they snuck him out early no one would know.

They successfully made it to the dorm where they came across another concern; where was Neville going to sleep?

“I can sleep on the floor.” Neville offered quietly.

“No,” Harry shook his head, “You can sleep in my bed. I'll take the floor.”

“No Harry I can’t do that!”

“Shh,” Ron hissed, “You're going to wake Zabini,'' he pointed to the sleeping boy who grumbled in his sleep. “Besides no one has to sleep on the floor, Nev we can share a bed if you're okay with that.”

“Yeah that’s fine,” Neville wrung his hands, “but are you okay with that?”

“Of course I would have offered otherwise, besides it wouldn't be the first time I've shared my bed with someone. Couple years ago me and some of my siblings got really sick so mum quarienteined us all in one room.”

“Alright then.”

They all then proceed to shuffle around in darkness trying to get ready for bed as quietly as possible. However because it was so dark Harry ended up tripping which caused Zabini to awaken and stare down at him.

“Potter,” Zabini slurred grumpily, “if you're going to sneak out this late at least be quiet about it.”

“Not sneaking out,” Harry said quickly getting up, “just going to the loo.”

Zabini scoffed unhappily as he drew his blinds. The trio of friends waited a moment before hurriedly getting into their respective beds. Tonight had been fun, Harry reflected as he snuggled into bed with a yawn, he just hoped it wouldn’t come back to bite in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter went a bit differently then I expected. It that fight between Ron and Draco wasn't planned and I was going to add when Draco challenges Harry to a duel but I cut that so yeah. 
> 
> Also the voice wasn't supposed to be here but he worked his way in. I'm sure you might have guess what the voice is if you haven't it'll be revealed like two-ish chapters from now.


End file.
